


Memoirs of a Cambridge Fellow

by CrescentMoonRising, littlemisscurious



Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Cambridge University - Freeform, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, Professor!Benedict - Freeform, University AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrescentMoonRising/pseuds/CrescentMoonRising, https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte Donaghue is a newly appointed lecturer at Clare College in Cambridge, England.  As she navigates the world of education, she not only must learn about the ins and outs of college life, but the personalities of the colleagues and students along with them.  It's when she's introduced to one of the bright stars of Kings College, Professor Cumberbatch, that she realizes there is more to him than meets the eye.  His shy and awkward personality puts off most, but Charlotte finds herself wanting to know more about the man behind the brilliant mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

 

"Come on, buddy. Out you get." It was still early in the morning and the sun was just about to rise when the young woman left her grey Mini Cooper and looked up at the old Victorian house that was going to be her new home for the foreseeable future. Ivy was growing up the side of it, hanging over some of the windows already and a few bugs and bees were buzzing around the new buds of the flowers standing on the window sills. Next to her, her boxer dog Oscar yawned and leaned against her leg, seemingly not too impressed by what he saw in front of him.

  
They had left their life in London behind now, having lived there for three years after moving down from Glasgow. Now they were in Cambridge and the only thing he cared about was another comfy spot to sleep in, preferably with a bit of sunlight and a few treats not far away from him either.  
Locking the car for now, Charlotte stepped towards the front door and Oscar followed hot on her heels. Unwilling to ring the doorbell and wake up her best friend and new flatmate, she fumbled the key into the lock and after a few moments of struggling with it, the door clicked and swung open. Inside it was small but cosy. A small staircase led upstairs while the room to her left, obviously the living room, was big and bright with a large, comfortably-looking sofa and numerous plants all over the shelves and on top of the mantelpiece.

Quietly, Charlotte took off her shoes. She'd been here before, more than once in fact, and Pauline had told her to just feel right at home in case she arrived before she was up herself. Pauline's own bedroom was at the very top of the house, right underneath the attic with a small en-suite bathroom attached to it. Charlotte's room would be on the level beneath that with her own bathroom and the study right next door. The study, originally the master bedroom of the house, was large and bright with a desk in front of both the windows, one for herself and one for her best friend.  
For now, her feet took her through to the kitchen that opened up into a small conservatory and a small garden, too. It wasn't as big as she had wanted it to be for Oscar but it would suffice for now. He wasn't too picky, thankfully, and as long as he had a patch of grass to sleep on in the sun, he was happy and content.

 

"Hey, I thought I heard someone," Pauline said, standing in the doorway and still wearing her pyjamas. With a few strides, she'd crossed the distance between them and drew Charlotte into a tight hug. "How are you? How was the trip?," she beamed, cheerful as always while she greeted Oscar, too. With his butt wiggling like crazy, he kept jumping up, hoping to give her a big kiss on the cheek, too, but she kept him away from her face much to his dismay.  
"It wasn't too bad actually. I think because we left so early, we missed the morning rush hour. I'm tired though. Didn't sleep much last night because I was so excited," Charlotte confessed with a laugh and Pauline shook her head with a smile.

"Come on then, let's get some coffee into our systems first. Your stuff got here yesterday and they all left it in your room so you can unpack later. And this afternoon there's this unofficial luncheon to mark the beginning of the semester. Most fellows from the Arts, Humanities, and Social Sciences do attend it to meet up again before the craziness of the term begins. Do you feel like coming? It's over at King's."

Shrugging her shoulders, Charlotte accepted the coffee mug Pauline handed her. "Sure, why not? Do I need to dress up for that?"

"Not too much, no. Maybe don't wear sneakers and a shirt but other than that it's more casual chic than dresses and suits. And it'll be nice to meet some of your new colleagues."

With a smile Charlotte nodded and took a sip from the hot beverage. Instantly, she felt more awake and ready to face the day. If she had thought she'd be hanging around the house all day, unpacking her things and getting into the spirit of living and working in Cambridge, she was wrong. Little did she know what the day would really bring along.

***

Stepping onto the grounds of King's College sent shivers down her spine. Her future workplace would be right next door at Clare College and her office would even feature a window looking out onto the famous chapel of the equally famous and prestigious college. Said chapel was looming up into the bright blue sky to her right but they turned away from it and steered towards the Wilkins' Building to their left where the hall was situated.

Charlotte already regretted her choice of footwear as the small cobblestones covering the ground made it a little difficult for her to navigate in her heels. Pauline had the same problems, though, and once Charlotte had voiced her concerns she merely said with a laugh, "Once inside it'll all be well and we'll look sophisticated and graceful, don't you worry." And with that they kept teetering along the path until they had finally reached the entrance to the great hall.

It was filled with people already, chatting in small groups and holding onto cups of coffee or tea. The Cambridge institution Fitzbillie's had provided them with delicious cakes and their famous Chelsea buns but before the two women were able to explore the delicacies on offer, a young man walked up towards them and greeted Pauline with a warm hug.

"Hello there, welcome back. How was your break?," he smiled warmly before looking at Charlotte. "And who is your gorgeous friend?"

Pauline laughed quietly. "Hi Martin. This is Charlotte, she's a Research Associate for English and Fellow at Clare's starting this term. And my break has been good but too short as usual. How about yours?"

Martin waved her off with a roll of his eyes before he took Charlotte's hand and breathed a kiss onto her knuckles which made her giggle a bit. "Charlotte, welcome to Cambridge. I hope Pauline hasn't already ruined your first impression of us by telling embarrassing stories from past events."

"Um, no, not yet. Should she?," Charlotte chuckled. She liked Martin already. He seemed younger than he probably was and his sparkling blue eyes exuded friendliness. And that Pauline liked and seemed to be good friends with him was also something that worked in his favour.

"Oh god no! It's much more fun to find our yourself what we are really liked," he winked before he turned to the blonde by his side again. "Darling, our child of sorrow is here, too. Remember I tried to hook him up with the arts lecturer from St. John's? Well, he fucked that up again, as expected. We really need to teach him how to take a girl on a date. It's getting embarrassing for me because obviously they blame me later for setting them up."

"Oh don't be too hard on Benedict. He's just...too bloody intelligent for his own good."

 

With interest Charlotte listened to their conversation while they had moved on to a table at the far end, coffee cups and plates with Chelsea buns now in their hands. She wasn't quite sure who they were talking about until she saw Pauline glancing at a man standing by the far wall, a cup of coffee in his one hand while the other was buried deeply in the pockets of his trousers. He looked a little forlorn standing there all by himself, his eyes gliding over the chatting, laughing groups around him.

"Who is he?," Charlotte asked quietly once Martin had moved on to greet some other colleagues of his.

"That's Benedict Cumberbatch, Professor at King's. He's teaching History that's how I met him. One of the youngest and brightest professors this University has ever seen. A bit socially awkward, though, but very likeable."

Nodding, Charlotte looked at him some more. Something about him interested her but she couldn't pinpoint what. Before she had a chance, however, a few more people joined their table and soon she was chatting away with a few other fellows from Clare College, forgetting all about Benedict for now.


	2. A History Lesson at Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who enjoyed the first chapter! Now, it’s time to introduce everyone to Professor Cumberbatch.

##  **Chapter 2– A History Lesson At Kings**

He had not heard his colleague enter the expansive office, nor did he notice the young man changing from his cardigan into a sport jacket. He heard none of his prattling regarding the afternoon’s events or who of last terms conquests he wished to tease. It only was when Matthew stood directly in front of Benedict, that the elder man looked up from the large book that held his attentions with a ferocious grip.

“Benedict, have you listened to a single word I’ve said?” The younger man sighed, hands pushed deep in his tweed covered pockets. He did not hide his displeasure towards his fellow member of the History Department at Kings, and an oftentimes friend.

Ben slunk back into his chair, as his hand raked through the dark brown locks that haphazardly fell about his forehead, “No, Matthew, I haven’t. I have a week to gather this research for my next presentation for the Cambridge Fellows Conference, so you’ll excuse me if my focus is on other matters at the moment.”

“At the moment…” Matthew murmured, smoothing down his lapels before clasping one button against his chest.

“You’re always focused. You never shut this off.” His finger poked into the side of Ben’s head as the latter swatted him away. “When will you realize that you can enjoy so much of life that’s outside of these walls?”

Benedict pushed away from the desk, standing to scan one of the many book lined walls around him, “Where is that synopsis of the fall of the Byzantine Empire?” he mumbled. His long fingers grazed over the leather bound spines until his name snapped off the walls behind him.

“Benedict!” Matthew said, grinding his teeth, “Listen to me, you need to get out of here. Fresh air and sunlight?  Be with others, you know? Converse with people who work and live right here, or within this amazing city?” Matthew’s moment of anger dissipated as his eyes relaxed and took on that kind, genial look that garnered him ample attention at Kings.

“I do that, Matthew. I’ve done it before. I go out, I attend these get togethers and teas and luncheons.  You know what happens?” He strode back to the desk and dropped the book down with a loud _smack_.

“Nothing, at best.  At the worst, I’m ignored, told that I’m boring or that I enjoy the company of books over people.  That part isn’t false, but I doubt it’s good manners to actually tell that to someone’s face.” He collapsed back into his oversized chair before thumbing through the gold leaf pages under his fingers.

Matthew let out a long sigh before crossing around the large oak desk to Benedict, “No, you’re right, it’s not.  However, I refuse to let you sit here, another evening with your books and your notes and breathing in the same stale air.  You never know, there’s a whole new crop of talent in these fine colleges. Maybe you’ll meet someone you can stand for more than half an hour.”

“Not likely.”

“Well, it’s not likely for it to happen if you stay here,” Matthew huffed.  He turned Benedict’s chair around and leaned directly into his friend’s face.  “I refuse to allow you to spend one more minute in here.  You don’t have to teach tomorrow, and if you did you could use one of your dozen or so teaching assistants to fill in for you.” With an arch of his eyebrow, Benedict resigned himself to his fate of an afternoon spent with Matthew and other scholars.

“Now get up or I’ll wheel you down the hallway and into the lift.” The smirk meant Matthew would follow through on that threat, so Benedict rose from his chair and grabbed his own tweed coat from the small closet behind him.

“Where are you dragging me to?”

Matthew straightened his tie and hair in the small mirror next to the windows overlooking the river, “Just down in the Wilkin’s Building.  At least we can look forward to some Chelsea Buns while we’re there.” Ben’s eyes closed with a sigh as he followed his gregarious friend into the lift and down to the luncheon.

* * *

While others chattered around him, exclaiming their excitement at the start of term and discussing their holidays, Benedict watched the swirling liquid in his cup go round and round. Matthew had already taken off to speak with some of the new assistants in the department.  In his mind, Benedict began the countdown by the second until he could leave.  

His mind wandered to his home, not too far off the main roads that flowed toward Kings.  He thought about settling into his study, with a cup of tea. While others milled about him, he compiled notes on the latest draft of his book on the Roman High Empire and how its dissolution created parts of modern-day England.  He longed for his favorite green jumper and the silence of the townhome, or maybe having some light music in the background, which tended to help him focus.

Solitude never bothered him, he had no issue with it.  Being alone never signified anything other than his ability to tune out the extraneous all around him.  To Benedict, life was about the next course, the next book, the next presentation at a conference that would give him the opportunity to write and study more.  The others that he had to endure: colleagues, assistants and students, usually remained in the background.  

Then there were those who felt he would be more agreeable if he was in a relationship. Maybe he’d be more ‘friendly’ and less surly in the halls.  Benedict’s eyes roamed over to the corner where a familiar blonde sat with a group of people. He soon recognized a few others, including Martin who was part of the History department at Clare College.  They had met a few times during some panels involving the various History professors who worked in Cambridge, and they had struck up a friendship, as it were.  Another young man who seemed to feel that Benedict should have a full dance card.

With a huff, he moved away from the wall and began floating through the crowd, looking for the delights from Fitzbillies that Matthew had promised.  As he stood by the tables with food and drink, he felt the presence next to him, the hostility already in the air.

“Benedict,” came the female voice, “How’s the research?”

Benedict placed one bun onto a plate and turned to Victoria, the head of Classics.  When she first came to Kings, five years prior, she had blown through the college like a summer hailstorm. In the early days, she saw him as another prize to be won in her rise to the top. Little did she know, Benedict merely found her as a nuisance.

“Victoria.  Splendid.  Should have another draft in the books within the next few weeks and to the publishers by the mid-term.  Good break?” He managed to pepper some height into his voice, at least to make it sound as if there was truth to his interest.

The smile that showed off all of her teeth appeared as she gloated, “Sublime! I am engaged! Jonathan proposed while on holiday in Saint Barts a few weeks ago.  I plan on having the reception after the term, give us some time to find a place to live and so on.” Her eyes roamed up and down his blue collared shirt that was messily tucked into his jacket.

“You know, if you could entertain the thought of a personal life, it would truly do you some good.  Do you think you’ll ever move forward with the work you’ve done from here if you can’t at least show you have some humanity inside you?”

Benedict’s face fell, the old familiar feeling of being out of place returning once more.  Before he could respond to her, even though he’d fail to know how, another lecturer from Classics walked over to grasp her hand and took Victoria’s venom away.  He set down the plate with the untouched bun and his half drunk coffee and made for the exits of the hall.  As he did so, he passed the table where Martin eagerly chatted with those around him.  Benedict thought he heard his name called from the bunch, but he ignored it as he loosened his tie before entering the lift to return to his office. He already knew which books he’d bring home with him tonight, and the wine he’d open while drafting the latest chapter.  That was a much more reasonable and pleasant ending to his day.

* * *

His feet found their way to Fitzbillies the next morning, still lingering thoughts over the lost sticky bun left behind. Benedict walked inside the small shop, already full with patrons sitting at tables and crowded around the small counter, looking for their early morning sugar fix.  He went through his wallet, deciding that he’d buy a dozen, and share them with the returning and new assistants on his staff.  It was the very least he could do, especially for the newcomers who had no idea what they were in for this term.

As he finally made his way to the counter and placed his order, he felt a body bump into his.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured as he looked next to him. Relief cascaded over his body when he saw the blonde hair and bright smile of Pauline. They’d become friendly over the years through Martin, as she was one of the least disagreeable people he’d come across in his tenure at Kings.  He deduced that this was due to the fact they were never linked romantically towards one another.

“No bother at all! It’s good to see you, Benedict,” she beamed. “Hope you had a good break?”

He nodded, “It was lovely here in Cambridge. Not too hot, and just enough rain.” Pauline shook her head in amusement before turning to her right. Benedict knew his eyes widened at the woman standing next to her, the long red hair braided and flipped over her shoulder.  Her hazel eyes flashed in brilliance through the sunlight that shone through the glass storefront.

“Benedict, this is Charlotte.  She’s an old friend of mine and is beginning her tenure over at Clare’s.  She’ll be staying with me at the present.”

 _Charlotte_.  Benedict knew he was staring but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.  The box of sticky buns pushed across the counter did that trick.  

Benedict turned back and smiled, as genuinely as possible, “Nice to meet you, Charlotte.” He suddenly felt the need to get away, as fast as possible.  At least before he messed up another relationship here in  Cambridge, and one before it even started.

“Nice to meet you too,” she said, her voice as melodious as he’d anticipated.

“Um, well, I should-I should get these to the office.  Have a lovely day, ladies,” he stuttered before nearly dropping the box onto the floor.  With a quick grab, he held it up, and tipped his head to the duo before maneuvering out of the shop and back down the road toward Kings.


	3. Settling In

The beginning of term came a lot quicker than Charlotte was prepared for and while she had made herself at home at the house, she hadn’t made herself quite at home yet in Cambridge. The corridors and buildings at Clare College were confusing at first and she continuously took a wrong turn or tried unlocking the wrong office door, much to the amusement of her new colleague and the Head of the English Department, Dan.

“Good morning, Miss Donaghue. Mind if I accompany you to your desk? Just to make sure you find the right one this morning,” he grinned as they met just outside the college gates. Rolling her eyes, she laughed before accepting his offer while Oscar jumped around Dan’s legs to greet him properly.

“Thanks, Dan. I’ll manage to find my way around one day, don’t you worry.”

He looked unconvinced and only raised his eyebrows before they had already reached their office and he unlocked it for them. This first term she would not be teaching but instead focus on her research and work on a few joint projects between Clare, King’s, and Pembroke College and Charlotte was glad because it enabled her to find her footing before she had to face students and their multitudinous questions. It also allowed her to bring Oscar to work now that she had acquired a special permission as the college generally featured a ‘no pets’ policy. Oscar didn’t seem too impressed by his special status but instead went straight to his dog bed in the corner, slumped down, and fell asleep again.

“So, a few of us are meeting at the pub tonight. Wanna come?,” Dan asked, pouring some coffee from a thermos flask into his favourite mug that read “With great beard comes great responsibility” - and yes, he carried that mug everywhere.

“Sure, why not. Anyone I know already?” So far everyone she’d met had been very nice and forthcoming and as she was planning to spend a few years at the College it definitely couldn’t hurt establishing a base of friends here. Who knew, maybe she’d find love, too. Would be about damn time for sure.

“Hm, let me think. Martin is coming, you know him, right? And I think Matthew will be there, too. He’s at the History department over at King’s. And as far as I know Angela and Mary wanted to come, too, although Mary wasn’t too sure yet if she’d be able to find a babysitter. Why don’t you ask Pauline as well? The more the merrier.”

And with a wink, he went back to work in the adjacent room, leaving his new colleague with a rather content smile on her face. Upon arrival it hadn’t been sure if and where a new office could be made available for her due to some unforeseen constructions works in one of the administration buildings. Dan, hearing about the dilemma, had immediately offered to give her access to one of his rooms. As Head of the department, he was allowed two adjacent office spaces and within a day he had made this one presentable for her. His books still covered parts of the wall behind her but she didn’t mind. In fact, they could become rather useful for her and sharing the office with someone like Dan, who seemed always cheerful, always friendly, but also always alert, engaged, and on top of things going on in his department, was definitely something she could live with.

***

“Why don’t you go on without me? Oscar needs a bit of a walk and then I better drop him off at home so I’ll join you later.” It had just gone 5 and not quite sure what time the reservation had been made for, Charlotte was rather keen to give her companion his much needed exercise before confining him to the house. Pauline would not join them tonight as she was getting ready for the Cambridge Fellows Conference taking place in a few days and Mary was unable to join them, too. She was looking forward to seeing Martin again, though, and from what Dan had told her about Matthew, he seemed pretty nice as well.

Glancing at his watch, Dan looked back up at her. “Would you like some company? We still have plenty of time and I wouldn’t mind a walk. We could grab a coffee first before we head across the river, maybe?”

The sun was already setting by the time they had reached the other side of the Cam and an area where Oscar was allowed to roam freely. She was glad he had adjusted so well in his new environment and Pauline loved him, too, thank god. Still, Cambridge wasn’t London and offered a lot less green space, at least close to where she lived.

“It’s quite a change, isn’t it?,” Dan mumbled, seemingly reading her mind, before he took another sip of his cappuccino. Wondering if she understood him correctly, Charlotte looked up at her colleague with a puzzled face.

“Moving here from London, I mean. I did the same a few years ago. Took me a while to adjust to life in a small town,” he explained and she nodded.

“Yes, it is quite a change. I love that it’s quieter and slower but I miss the parks and…well, just the atmosphere, I suppose. But then again Glasgow, where I’m originally from, isn’t that large either.”

“Hah, I knew that accent sounded familiar. Glasgow, eh? What made you leave?”

“Opportunities, I suppose. Maybe also the desire to do something on my own for once. You see, I have four sisters, one older, three younger, and our father died when I was ten. Sure, my mother did a great job looking after us but with the three smaller ones, me and Elsa, the oldest, had to grow up faster, too. And then you think of where to go and London was one of the first options on the list. Life in a big city, an offer to study at King’s - it was too tempting not to accept,” she smiled as they kept walking back towards the street, Oscar still running happily around them.

It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t Pauline but also not necessarily someone she’d be romantically linked to. Dan was handsome, no question, but he was also her superior and, hence, out of the question. As they kept chatting away about his own journey from London via Wales to Cambridge, they reached her home and while he waited in the hallway and exchanged a few words with Pauline, Charlotte quickly went upstairs and freshened up a little.

“Alright, ready when you are,” she smiled, once she had returned downstairs and had fed Oscar who seemed a bit confused now that she would go out again without him.

It had gotten quite chilly again and Charlotte pulled her coat closer around her as they walked through the quiet streets of Cambridge to The Anchor, one of its most celebrated

pubs. Conversation flowed easily again between her and Dan and she was almost sad she had to share him with others now when they reached the pub where Martin, Angela, and presumably Matthew were already waiting for them.

“Hi Dan! Oh, you brought gorgeous company, how lovely. Hello Charlotte. Have you settled in yet?,” Martin grinned and hugged her briefly.

“Not entirely but I’m working on it,” she laughed and greeted Angela, a fellow research associate from Pembroke before her gaze focused on Matthew.

“Good evening, how do you do? I’m Matthew,” he smiled, oozing old English charm already with his sparkling eyes, his neatly styled hair, and the rather boyish looking glasses atop his nose.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Charlotte,” she smiled back before taking the only seat available, right next to him. A glance at Martin and Dan’s suspiciously innocent smile told her that the way they were seated was no coincidence at all.

After a few moments of introductory conversation, drinks were ordered and the famous Fish&Chips as well. Charlotte soon realised that, as with her previous colleagues form King’s in London, it was hard not to talk about work-related things when out with peers. Especially Martin and Dan enjoyed sharing stories of all sorts, keeping the round entertained while they sipped on their beer and waited for their food.

“So, Charlotte, tell me, what do you think of this beautiful city so far? Have you seen much yet? If you ever want a private tour of King’s College, let me know. I know the most secret corners and the best hiding places,” Matthew grinned rather cheekily, once the other two men and Angela were engrossed in their own conversation.

“Oh do you now?,” Charlotte chuckled, her fingers gliding around the stem of her wineglass.

“Oh absolutely. All for research, you understand. I am a History professor after all and knowledge about the history and intricacies of my workplace is paramount, wouldn’t you agree?”

She couldn’t help but blush a little under his gaze. He was openly flirting with her and Charlotte wasn’t used to men who were self-confident yet charming at the same time. She liked it, though, liked his appreciative if not really inconspicuous glances up and down her body and the way his hand every so often found his way onto the back of her chair, fingers glancing over her back.


	4. Spring in Bloom

##  **Chapter 4-- Spring in Bloom**

The shuffling of feet preceded the sound of labored breathing.  Benedict entered the main area of his office, where a few small desks and chairs were set up for his assistants.  While he was not the Head of the Department (a title he did not want in the first place, as it would take precious time from his research and writing), he had the second largest office in the college.  His numerous publications and the funding for his research allowed for the College’s leniency in his particularities.

He cleared his voice as Peter collapsed against the small desk, dropping a hundred or so papers onto it, “Class go well?”  

The young man, Peter-- newest addition to Dr. Cumberbatch’s staff of Assistants and Fellows, gasped through his labored breaths, “Yes, Sir.  Class went fine, first paper of the term has been collected.” He held onto the back of a chair, still trying to fill his lungs as Allen walked in behind him.

“The one good thing to this assignment,” the elder student remarked with a laugh, “is that after this essay is returned, at least ten students will drop the class.  A little less for you to carry next time.” His amusement barely remained behind his smile and crinkled eyes.  Allen had been in Peter’s position a few years earlier, his relief and amusement at the Professor’s current victim displayed prominently on his face.

Allen continued, “Peter will utilize the grading rubric and anyone who scores high across the board will be given to me.  The rest will be graded on their ability to work with the topic.”

Benedict grunted, “Good. Make sure the papers are graded and returned in two weeks.  Anyone who demonstrates my level of achievement, keep on the side.  Otherwise, the rest can be farmed out to the other Fellows and Lecturers.”  With a long sigh to such menial tasks, he raised his coffee mug to his lips, disappointed to find it was empty.  His eyes trailed to Peter, and he focused on him, hoping that the required information would magically appear in the intricate filing system in his brain.  

Allen merely sighed before saying Peter’s name to catch the younger fellow’s attention and he snapped up, ready for the next task.

“I need coffee. Run down to Costa, would you?” Benedict murmured as he walked back into his private office.

Allen walked over and pulled a tenner from his pocket, “Large latte, four sugars.  Get me a large cappuccino too and something for yourself.  You look like you could use it.” With two pats to the shoulder, Allen released Peter from the offices.  He took a look over the overwhelming stack of typewritten pages before he followed Benedict to his desk.

“So, the introductory course has had their first assignment.  The second level course gave in their proposals for their research project.  The Fellows have their own class research as well as lessons for your classes.”

“Splendid job you are doing,” Benedict confirmed.  It would be the most praise Allen could garner from his mentor.

He held up his hands in thanks, “I appreciate it Dr. Cumberbatch.” He watched the elder man tap the desk, looking for something in the office.  Allen walked over to one of the oversized chairs, mainly used for housing Benedict’s various printouts of essays, research drafts and books stolen from the library.  Visitors must wonder if some of those volumes had been housed in his office since the Professor began his tenure over a decade ago. He handed Benedict a book he had seen him working with the day prior and Benedict grunted his thanks.

Allen shifted back and forth on his feet, “At some point, I need to sit down and discuss my updated notes for my doctorate.  I want to have at least one draft complete before the end of term and—“ As expected, Benedict waved him off.

“Just leave it on my desk when it’s done. You have nothing to worry about, I will ensure that your doctorate is approved.”

“Yes, but I still have to complete my defense and there will be other Professors in attendance, like Professor Goode…”

“Who will go on my recommendation.” Benedict intoned, thus ending the conversation. Benedict allowed him more leniency than most, having Allen as his Fellow as well as Teaching Assistant for the past two terms. Allen was young, and brilliant, and every Professor at Kings (and in the adjoining Colleges) envied Benedict’s catch. Benedict could see him becoming a huge asset to the History Department at Kings in the near future.  In the meantime, however, Allen would remain under his supervision until he found someone else more suitable to teach his classes.  

Benedict cleared his throat, “We have the symposium on English History next week over at St. Johns.  Teachers from Emmanuel, Kings and Clare will present and sit on one of the panels.  I was wondering if you’d like to join me.”

Allen’s eyes went wide, “Yes, absolutely, Sir! I would be honored to—“

“Good, I’ll be discussing some of the newest research on impacts of global expansion on Medieval England . Make sure you read my newest draft.” With that, Benedict turned away and searched his worn and patched briefcase for his laptop.  He heard Allen whisper his thanks again before he quietly retreated to his desk.

“And where’s that boy with the coffee?” Benedict bellowed outward, as his cravings raged once more.

* * *

 

The days turned warmer as term continued towards summer, and Benedict could feel the change as he exited his home onto Trinity Lane. The earlier arrival of dawn prompted him to wake up and he felt as if he’d do well with a long walk along the River Cam. He welcomed the temperate breeze as he strolled through the green grass lined walkways to the flowing river, which sat quietly next to him.  

He had to admit, this year had gone beyond his expectations so far.  Allen kept the fellows in check and Peter had confirmed everyone’s expectations to be another shining star.  Benedict even found himself ready with the draft of his newest book earlier than expected. The symposium would be later that week, and he felt confident that this newest research would be regarded with praise.

Then why did he feel so empty? Things in his life had not changed much. Work in the College, meeting hours, writing and research before settling at home each night had been his life for years. He thought he would enjoy the routine.  He had not expected to spend his time in contemplation.

For the first time in as many years as he could imagine, he wondered what life would be like if he could share it with someone.  What it would feel like to have someone to share his thoughts, his dreams with at the end of the night.  How would it feel to have someone sitting across from him at the dinner table, even if they remained silent.

At almost forty, he wondered if he could find that kind of companionship anymore. Although, he resigned to himself that maybe he had become too fixated in his own tendencies, his predilection to function in his mind without care for others.  He’d also found it too easy to spend that time with himself.  In a romantic or even semi-romantic situation, where he was totally unsure and out of his depth, he tended to retreat to old habits, or become just plain clumsy. How could he ever find someone who would be interested in that kind of a relationship?

His silent musing pushed him to Clare College before he’d even realized it.  He looked up at the old and intricate facade before his eyes turned to a familiar face walking towards him.

“Matthew,” Benedict called and his colleague looked up with his permanent smile and gleaming eyes.  The younger Professor never lacked the ability to draw others in, and find any kind of companionship in a heartbeat.

“Benedict! My goodness, what glorious weather! How are you, my friend?”

Benedict nodded, “Well, moving along. The research is definitely on a roll and I’m already garnering requests for guest lectures over the summer. Should be busy. How are you? Haven’t seen you much.”

Matthew’s grin nearly reached ear to ear as his hand rubbed behind his neck, “Oh, I’ve been busy.  Met a girl, having a grand old time.”

Benedict merely raised his eyebrow, “Nothing new for you but is it serious?” The wind whipped through the trees and a few loose, immature leaves fell down, flying through the air before landing on the pavement.

“Yes, and no. I mean, she’s a great girl, smart and incredibly beautiful.  I just don’t see myself settling down anytime soon so it’s just a good time.” The knowing smile on his face was clear enough, even for Benedict, to read between those lines.

As he was about to take his leave, he heard a voice call from the exit of Clares yell Matthew’s name.  Benedict turned, thinking the voice sounded familiar.  As his eyes fell upon the brilliant redhead, his heart sank into his feet.

“Charlotte,” Matthew breathlessly gasped as the beautiful woman slid to his side.  Matthew leaned in and placed a long and sensual kiss on her lips to say hello.  After a highly uncomfortable moment, Charlotte smacked into Matthew’s chest, giggling as they separated. Matthew allowed his arm to rest on her shoulders, pressing her close to his chest, while her eyes turned to Benedict, who immediately looked away.

“Benedict, this is Charlotte Donaghue, she’s an English fellow and friend of Pauline de Winter.”

Ben nodded, “It’s good to see you again.” His eyes roamed his briefcase as he counted the scratches on the surface.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes before recognition hit her. He tried with all his might to hold back the smile as she gushed, “Yes, you are Pauline’s friend! We met when I first arrived?”

Benedict finally let the smile loose before pushing his glasses up further onto the bridge of his nose, “Yes, a few weeks ago at Fitzbillies. Anyway, enjoy yourselves.” Benedict went to turn and head as far away as possible before it could become any more painful for him.  Matthew called him back and he nearly dropped his briefcase on the turn.  Matthew did not hold back a snicker, but Charlotte was kind enough to remain silent.

“Want to join us? We’re headed to grab a coffee!”

“No, no thank you. I’ll grab some at the College,” his feet finally caught up and he walked briskly to the Faculty entrance at Kings, in the hope to hole up in his office until he could send someone out for coffee. That would give him time to manage the brewing headache at the base of his neck.  


	5. Double Date

“Oscar, no! This isn’t your lunch! Now sit…and stay. Good boy.” Balancing a cardboard tray with four coffees in one hand and a casserole dish in the other, Charlotte left her loyal four-legged friend in the small courtyard at King’s College before she herself took the lift to the first floor. The big day of the Cambridge Fellows Conference had arrived at last and with Matthew cooped up in his office for most of the last week, she was looking forward to seeing him again now, if only briefly. She had promised him lunch – Shepherd’s Pie after her mother’s recipe – and knowing how hard they all worked, she’d picked up some coffees too.

Allen she already met in the hallway and he was gracious enough to take the casserole dish from her, allowing her her grand entrance into the ever-busy office with four cups of steaming hot Costa coffee.

“Hello everyone,” she smiled warmly, handing out a skinny latte to Pauline and a cappuccino to Matthew now that Allen had already helped himself to his own hot beverage. Looking at the last cup, Charlotte then realised she had forgotten someone in the group and internally she cursed when Benedict already stepped into the office, carrying a load of books and papers.

“Oh, hello,” he smiled, obviously surprised to see her here. For a moment she thought he looked almost a little pained but soon enough he had turned around and she shook her head. She was probably imagining things already. 

“Um, I brought coffee but I forgot one so you can have mine. It’s a cappuccino, I hope you don’t mind,” she mumbled while behind her Matthew, Allen and Pauline were already pouncing on the Shepherd’s Pie.

“He’s got Peter, he can get him some coffee,” Matthew said between two bites and Benedict was just about to agree, she assumed, when Charlotte shook her head. 

“No, he can have mine, it’s fine. I’ve had coffee earlier and I should head out again soon anyway. Oscar is downstairs and I don’t want to leave him too long. You enjoy your lunch – I made Shepherd’s Pie, Benedict, please help yourself – and I’ll see you tonight, darling. 8 o'clock, right?” Straightening out Matthew’s tie, she smiled up at her handsome boyfriend and he nodded, gazing down into her hazel eyes.

“Do you want me to pick you up? Just to make sure you get to the pub alright?,” he whispered with a cheeky grin, his free hand wandering down her back towards her bum. Stopping him just in time to avoid any kind of embarrassment in front of his colleagues, Charlotte nodded with slightly flushed cheeks. “Please do. Come a little earlier, we can have a glass of wine at my place before we leave. Who are we meeting anyway?”

“It’s a surprise,” Matthew grinned and kissed her, briefly but deeply, before letting go. With a wave and a smile, Charlotte said goodbye to the others, realising that her cappuccino had remained untouched so far, still standing on the edge of Benedict’s desk as he was almost hiding behind a wall of books and his laptop. 

***

“Hi Matthew! And bye Matthew!” Laughing, Pauline brushed past him on her way out and with a confused smile he returned the greetings. “Have a nice evening,” he managed to add before she had already jumped into the waiting cab and soon enough he was distracted by Oscar anyway, who was jumping around his legs, begging for attention.

“Hello my boy. Have you missed me? Yes, I missed you too. Now, where’s your Mummy, eh?” And with that the young boxer ran inside again and up the stairs to Charlotte’s bedroom. Smiling, Matthew closed the front door behind him and looked at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He’d left the two top buttons of his shirt open and his glasses were atop his nose because he knew how much Charlotte liked them on him. Once more ruffling through his hair, he then followed Oscar upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Hello gorgeous.” He stopped in the doorway to her bedroom, admiring the view he was offered. Her lean legs looked perfect in the gold shimmering mini skirt and the white blouse accentuated her auburn hair just the way he liked it. Within seconds she was in his arms and his lips covered hers as he held her, trying hard not to rip the clothes right off her again. 

For the briefest of seconds, Charlotte interrupted their kiss, breathless already and with flushed cheeks. “Oscar, where’s Pauline?,” she asked and instantly the dog raced outside and downstairs, looking for the flat mate he, of course, wouldn’t find. Just as quickly, though, Charlotte closed the door behind him and pressed Matthew right against it. 

“Well hello there…getting ideas now, are we?,” he teased her while she already began to unbutton his shirt.

“I always have ideas and don’t pretend you don’t,” she giggled and kissed him again. Of course it didn’t take long for their clothes to hit the ground and their entangled bodies to hit the sheets.

***

“Sorry to have kept you waiting. We…got held up,” Matthew apologised, unable to hide the suggestive undertone in his voice. Benedict only nodded, clearly embarrassed because even he had understood the secret message behind this while his date for the night, Marie, who Matthew had set him up with, chuckled quietly. 

“Of course. Well, I’m glad you could make it anyway, Matt. And you must be Charlotte. Pleasure. I’m Marie, Matthew’s old room mate.” Her handshake was firm yet feminine and with her olive skin and flowing hair it was hard for anyone not to notice her straightaway. Charlotte couldn’t deny that the woman in front of her was absolutely gorgeous and trying to hide her slight embarrassment and added nervousness, she smiled and shook the offered hand before they all ventured into the pub and straight out onto the terrace. 

It was packed on this mild spring evening but thankfully they had reserved a table right by the river. The sky was tinged in all shades of yellow, orange, and red and for a moment Charlotte got lost in the view. It was peaceful despite the chatting crowd around them. A few punters were still on the Cam and on the opposite river bank a few students were playing Badminton in the evening sun.

“Charlotte?”

“Hm? Sorry, I got a little distracted. What did you say?”

“Dreaming again are we?,” Matthew laughed quietly before he repeated his question. “What would you like to drink? Marie and I, we’ll have a Merlot for old time’s sakes.”

“Oh, um. I’ll take one too, thanks,” she nodded, still a bit intimidated by the woman sitting opposite her boyfriend. She had already noticed Marie’s hands being a bit too close to Matthew’s while Benedict beside her looked entirely lost and out of place. Charlotte wasn’t sure why Matthew had set them up in the first place but as the minutes passed by and she watched him and his old pal, she got the suspicion that this awkward double date was merely an excuse for him to see her again. After all she was living in London now, owning a successful beauty products company and enjoying the high life in fashionable Belgravia.

A small lump started to form in her stomach. Charlotte had realised before that Matthew got distracted a little too easily by other female colleagues or even older students if they had long legs, flowing long hair and a mesmerising smile. He was a womaniser, she’d known that all along, but still she had hoped their relationship was about more than just good sex by now. Looking away from the ever-gorgeous Marie, her eyes met Benedict’s over her glass of Merlot but he quickly looked away again. He had made no effort yet to join the conversation of the other two and seemed strangely comfortable just sitting there, almost as if by himself. He cared about Marie as little as she cared about him, that much was obvious.

Not willing to get pushed aside so easily, Charlotte placed her hand on Matthew’s thigh and for a moment he looked at her, the twinkle from earlier back in his eyes. A kiss followed – he was good at that – before he got distracted again by yet another “And do you remember…?” Of course he didn’t and of course she told the story anyways.

Retracting her hand, she turned towards the river again and the magnolia trees in full bloom right opposite the terrace. She loved their smell and their pale pink colour. When the petals fell to the floor it always looked a little like a carpet of pink velvet and she smiled thinking of that. Deciding to enjoy herself that evening, Charlotte turned towards the man opposite her again. 

“So, how’s your research going? You made quite the impression at the conference today from what I heard.”


	6. Wine and Shakespeare

Benedict looked across the table, aware of the beauty of the woman who graced the chair, but not affected by it in the least.  His fingers tapped onto his glass of lager, the knowledge that he should speak and attempt conversation.  That’s what people on dates did, even when they’re dragged kicking and screaming into it.  

He could still hear Matthew’s pleading, the incessant begging, as he followed Benedict around his offices the day prior: “Come on, I need a fourth! I can’t just go with Charlotte, it’ll be entirely too awkward. Plus, I haven’t seen Marie in ages.  She’s absolutely gorgeous, you’d be the envy of everyone who sees you guys together.”

Benedict could only raise an eyebrow as Matthew frantically waved his hands in front of himself, “Yeah, yeah, I know you could give a shit! I’m telling you, she’s lovely, and you’d be doing me a huge favor!” Benedict continued to ignore him, instead shuffling through a stack of papers that caught his interest. However, his thoughts perked to the possibility of spending time with Charlotte again.  Even if it meant attending a date with her duplicitous boyfriend.  

“I’d be in your debt, permanently.”

“Permanently?”

“Um,” Matthew responded, knowing the slope he was sliding down could be treacherous, “How’s about this—you need to finish up the last of that research on the Asian influence in British medieval culture.  I will round up two hundred pages of research and have it on your desk by Friday! What do you say?”

Benedict reclined in his chair and steepled his fingers on his lips, “I could have Peter do that for me easily.”  Matthew huffed and with a shaking hand through his fingers, continued his sacrifice.

“Summaries?”

“With alphabetized footnotes.”

“Deal! You got it! Tomorrow, eight o’clock sharp! You know the place, right by the river right?” Matthew was already backtracking out of the offices before Ben could change his mind.  A change of heart that was already beginning to formulate into words.

He shook his head, figuring Peter deserved the break,  “Eight o’clock.”

It happened to be a quarter past eight when Matthew and his girlfriend entered the pub.  Making barely concealed excuses to their lateness, Benedict could only huff and sigh as Marie could finally turn her attentions to Matthew. Within seconds it became clear that Benedict’s date held more than just the title of former roommate.   The unrestrained tension between the two of them permeated the table.  Marie batted her dark eyelashes and leaned forward into Matthew’s space whenever she mentioned a moment that only the two of them experienced.

Benedict appeared to be not the only one who noticed. While Charlotte attempted to gain Matthew’s attention, Benedict could just watch as Matthew turned again to Marie.  With a sigh, Benedict finished his drink, ready to be done with it all and to go home. Charlotte’s question, however, changed his mind.

He swallowed as her hazel eyes fixed upon him, “Um, well, I heard some feedback from the other presenters. It’s a bit of an obscure topic but it’s gaining ground.” His eyes focused on his empty glass, just as a knot wound itself around his stomach. He decided talking might alleviate the symptoms.

“I submitted the first draft into the publishers recently, we should have it in a week or two with editorial notes. Before finalizing though, I think it needs more about the other influences on cultures surrounding the area.  I believe they created a huge mark onto Britain’s military strategy.”  He figured she’d have lost interest at that point, but shock widened his eyes that she was still focused on him.  She nodded for him to continue, and he absentmindedly wound his hand around the base of his neck.  He cursed himself for wearing his blazer along with the collared shirt, he could feel himself becoming warm in the dying sunlight.

Noting Charlotte’s empty glass, he signaled to a waiter, “Another for me, and the lady is having Merlot, correct?” Her lips curled into a smile, as he glanced at the full glasses of their companions.

“They can order when they’re ready,” he murmured and the waiter left. He realized the color of her hair matched the colors in the sky, and the blush on her face was as pink as the flowers on the ground.

Charlotte’s voice remained as sweet as the day he met her, “I think that’s fascinating though, I mean you can investigate various military installations, the ones that influenced so much—including literature. Kings and rulers used that as their foundation.  Truly that knowledge made it’s mark everywhere.”

He drummed his fingers against the table, hoping the drinks would come sooner than later, “Yes, think of how so many authors used the different strategies to tell tales of the time.  We knew little of how wars were fought and won. The basics of that information is founded in us knowing about Roman and even Asian battles.  Think of _Coriolanus_ , that’s a perfect example of a military leader’s strategy and government development, influenced by those around him.”  

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide, “Yes! That’s one of my favorite plays! We learn so much of the time through the viewpoint of a military machine!” Her enthusiasm caught the attentions of the other two at the table and they removed themselves from their conversation to look up.

Marie laughed, “A play about the military? How could that be interesting?” Matthew’s mouth opened and closed, not willing to correct her, or defend his girlfriend.  Benedict noted Charlotte’s face dropped at the lilting words towards her, and her eyes turned grateful when the waiter appeared with the drinks.

Benedict’s words sprung forth, “Yes, a play written by William Shakespeare. He’s somewhat famous for them.” Charlotte snickered into her wine glass as Marie pursed her lips at him. The coldness in her eyes matched her superior tone.

“Yes, of course, I’ve heard of him.   _Romeo and Juliet_?”

“Which I’m sure you believe is a romance,” Benedict grumbled under his breath as gasps flew from both Matthew and Charlotte.  Benedict took a long swig of his drink and pulled out two tens and dropped them onto the table.  Matthew’s mouth opened to stop him, but Benedict’s evening met its conclusion.

“Charlotte, it has been lovely to see you once again. Matthew, tomorrow at work we need to review the next semester’s selections for the department.” He would have walked away in any other situation.  But, with Charlotte present, he felt the need to show some courtesy.

“Marie, a pleasure.  Take care.” He heard Charlotte call out a goodbye.  Striding through the pub, he longed to hear her voice discussing literature or history or anything once again.

* * *

Allen gasped in exhaustion, Peter appeared half asleep, but as they stumbled into Benedict’s office, a moment of celebration erupted.  

Benedict looked up from his laptop, “Last assignments are in?”  Peter mumbled something of a positive statement as he slumped into his chair.  Allen patted his back before walking to his mentor.

“All are in, anyone who hasn’t would be stupid to at this point. It’s worthless as we wont accept it.” Benedict huffed approval as he walked over to the desks, noting the hundreds of papers piled up throughout the room.

“Well, the end of term is upon us. Have we lined up discussions for next term with the potential new intern candidates?” Peter looked over at them with palpable relief that his tenure as lowest in the office would cease.

“Yes, they’ll be meeting with me in the next few days.  We had a great deal interested, but I think we have room for two, maybe three on the list. Depends on whether you’ll be actually teaching next term.”

Benedict sighed, “Yes, it appears they’ll be forcing me to the classroom once more.  Don’t think that’ll make it easy on either of you. Peter, you’ll be taking Allen’s place as he’ll be finishing up his doctorate.” His threat appeared to be less than effective as both men looked quite happy at the outcome.  Benedict turned to head back inside as his doors opened, and Matthew strode in with a huge smile.

“Gorgeous weather we’re having today, gentlemen!” Allen and Peter separated and Benedict’s hand immediately went to his temple.

“Come to share some good news with us, Matthew?” The younger man nodded, his black curls bouncing off his head.  The two stepped into Benedict’s personal office and before the door closed, Matthew began in excitement.

“I was accepted to teach in America next term! Well, their term—they begin in the end of August.”

Benedict’s shock laced in his voice, “You’re kidding? You were looking to head down to London, I thought?” Matthew shrugged before sliding into a chair, crossing his legs.

“Well, yes, Kings wanted me there, but then Columbia is doing a teacher swap.  I can spend five months in New York City! Manhattan! One of the most prestigious universities in the country. It’s worth it for the connections I could make alone!” Benedict could see his point, but the gnawing at the back of his throat refused to remain contained.

“What about here? You have students, your own research? Charlotte?” The last word was more of a whisper than a question, wondering how Matthew could leave such a treasure behind. The aggravation perked up over his skin, and he chalked it up to another win for Matthew’s column. His gregarious personality would always bring him throughout the globe, even if his research was inferior to Benedict’s.

Matthew shrugged before picking up one of the books on Benedict’s desk, “I haven’t thought about it too much. It’s my research, my movement in the field.  Gotta get out there, you know?”  

He continued, “I can’t be tied down too long. Especially with an opportunity like this. New York City at the end of the year, it’ll be magical.”

“It’s a shame, we’ll miss you around here,” Benedict spat.

“You’ll miss me dragging you out and being your social director,” he countered. “I fear you’ll become a shut-in while I’m gone.” The mischievous smile never left his face.

“I’m sure Martin will find me, time and again.  I don’t need endless nights at pubs to be happy. My home, my books, my wine: that makes me happy.”

Matthew crossed over and placed his hand around Benedict’s back, “Please, promise me you’ll get out? Get a second of sun, and maybe even have a conversation that doesn’t revolve around British history?”

With a grunt, Benedict jerked away and Matthew laughed, “Try to keep it together, I’ll be back soon! Promise.” Benedict waved him off and Matthew’s laugher followed him out of the offices and into the hallway.


	7. Time for a change

“You know, I think I’ll head home, too. It’s been a long day. Have a good night you two.” And with that and not much more, Charlotte dropped some money on the table herself and left the pub as quickly as she could. She felt humiliated by her boyfriend who seemingly could care less and in order to avoid pulling Marie’s perfectly blow-dried hair out, she decided leaving was the better option. 

Outside she had hoped to catch another glimpse of Benedict but he was already gone and maybe, she wondered afterwards, it had been better that way.

The next days she threw herself into her work which not only Dan noticed but Pauline, too. Hoping to get Charlotte to join her and Martin for a day-trip to London she was met with polite smiles and ‘thank yous’ and utterances like 'I’d rather get this finished but maybe next time.’ She already wondered whether Matthew was to blame as she hadn’t seen them together for a few days and when Martin shared his newest piece of gossip with her, she was sure that her womanising colleague was the reason behind Charlotte’s retreat into her research. What she didn’t know was that Charlotte was yet unaware of her boyfriend’s adventurous plans that would take him to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

In the end it was Dan who, unknowingly, broke the news.

“So, big changes coming up for you then, eh?,” he said once they had taken their lunch to the riverbanks of the Cam.

“You mean with the teaching next semester? Oh I’m rather looking forward to that. I still need approval for the joint lecture with the History department but it would be really interesting for the students, I believe,” she smiled, her face literally lighting up at the prospect of finally teaching as well.

Her mentor next to her was rather confused. “That wasn’t quite what I meant but I’m glad you’re so excited. And I suppose the approval is only a matter of time. They like to do things the right way here.”

Her smile vanishing a little, Charlotte looked at him, wiping a few strands of hair out of her face. “What did you mean then?”

Dan grew clearly uncomfortable under her gaze because he wondered if she truly didn’t know. “Well, you know…with Matthew going to New York and all…,” he mumbled, focusing entirely on the bowl of salad in his lap.

Next to him Charlotte remained silent. She was looking ahead again, her hair framing – and hiding – her face, allowing him no possibility to read her at all. Eventually, she found her voice again. “I didn’t know he was going to New York. Columbia I presume?” Dan nodded, feeling awful. “Well, I guess it’s better if he leaves. He and I, we…it’s not really what I thought it would be. He wants to have fun. Nothing else. No commitment, nothing more…serious. I’m surprised he even called me 'girlfriend’. I guess it just took me a while to realise that.”

“Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I thought you knew. I thought that is the reason you…well, you spent so much time at the office recently,” Dan apologised, turning towards her a little. In the distance he could see a rather familiar History professor walking towards them and gently he nudged his colleague and friend to warn her.

“The reason I spent more time in the office is because that is truly what I love to do. And if someone cannot appreciate that or even considers my abilities and my knowledge as something embarrassing, which needs to be disregarded in front of others, then that person clearly does not belong in my life.” She’d said the words loud enough for Matthew to hear as he arrived by her side and his smile vanished from his face almost that instant. Dan could just about hold back a snicker as he had always thought him to be a bit too aloof for his genuinely nice and down-to-earth colleague who was way above his league.

“Oh Matthew, hi.” A fake smile plastered to her face, Charlotte turned a little and looked up at him briefly before turning back to her lunch. “Dan was just telling me about your plans to go to New York. How very interesting.” Her fake excitement and the just about perceivable anger bubbling underneath her words made Matthew flinch. He knew word travelled fast between the colleges but despite waiting all these days he had hoped to be the first one anyway to tell her. He had hoped he could explain. Question was, did she even want or need an explanation?

With a few words of excuse, Dan made his exit and left the two alone, convinced that it wasn’t Charlotte who’d need consolation afterwards. 

“Before you make up any fake excuses why you didn’t tell me yourself, let me say this,” she began even before he had time to properly sit down on the grass. Nodding and looking a lot less confident than usual, he looked at her.

“I don’t need you, Matthew. I don’t need your pity or your lack of backbone. You are a self-absorbed, arrogant arse who happens to look like a Greek god but honestly? Looks aren’t everything. You’ve treated me like I am beneath you, like my intellect couldn’t possibly be a match for yours and you’ve made it quite clear that sex is all I’m good for. I’m not one of the Maries of this world or whatever else your former 'roommates’ are called. I’m me. And unlike others, I got my position at Cambridge because I got the right qualifications, not because I slept with the right people. Have fun in New York.”

And with that she got up, took her lunch and her coffee and left her ex-boyfriend sitting among the ducks by the river, almost bumping into some of her colleagues at the same time, who had wanted to join them and were now left with open mouths, staring at both her and Matthew alternately. Charlotte knew the last accusation must have hurt because he himself had confessed as much to her after consuming a little too much wine at her place one night. She couldn’t care less, though. She only regretted those days and weeks she had wasted wondering why she wasn’t good enough.

***

It was mid-term and to celebrate both that and the fact that this summer was actually warm and lovely, a few members of King’s and Clare’s and Trinity had organised a small summer party by the river one evening. Drinks were offered and a few canapés were served and light jazz music echoed from speakers erected on either side of the area. On the river a few punters were still out and about and a cocktail glass in hand, Martin now tried his utmost to convince a few people to join him in one of the boats. 

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun! We could get two boats and have a little race even,” he begged, clearly too excited thanks to his probably second 'Sex on the Beach’.

“Excellent idea, Martin. Would you like me to guess beforehand who will end up in the water?,” Dan laughed and a few of the others joined in much to Martin’s dismay. Grumbling something about them being boring, he took another sip of his drink, still looking rather longingly at the punting boats.

“Where is Matthew? Isn’t he normally at the heart of events like these?” Someone asked and briefly, Dan looked at Charlotte standing next to him. He had heard about their break-up and rumours were flying around about what exactly she had said and meant but obviously both she and him remained mum about it.

“I think Matthew’s had his wings cut a little. Probably feels like he needs to lay low for a while,” Pauline chuckled, not even hiding her amusement at her colleague’s misfortune. There had even been whispers about a possible investigation into his qualifications and a potential forgery of his curriculum vitae but Charlotte didn’t listen to any of this. He’d win in the end, she knew it. People like him always did.

Looking around, her ponytail grazing along her shoulders and her long maxi-dress flowing around her legs, she had rather been hoping to see someone else, though. Her idea to have a joint lecture held by both an English researcher as well as a historian had been approved for the upcoming term and she had had someone specific in mind for the job. Knowing about his dislike for teaching by now, however, she was worried he might say no. Tonight, after a cocktail or two, might have been the perfect opportunity for her to ask him but so far he hadn’t turned up.

“Charlotte? Don’t you want to go punting with me? It would be fun. Just think about it. We could see the colleges from the river,” Martin said, his arm now wrapped around her shoulder as he tried to convince yet another one of his friends and colleagues.

“I’ve seen them from there already,” she giggled but Martin was having none of it. Still talking about the beauty of Cambridge as seen from the river he guided her slowly down to the boat with Dan, Pauline, and some of the others cheering them on. Laughing quietly but hoping for someone else to accompany them, too, Charlotte looked around when her eyes fell on someone rather unexpected but very welcome.

“Who are you lo- ah, Benedict! Come, come, join us! Charlotte and I were just about to go punting,” Martin laughed, waving him over. To her surprise, he did walk over to where they stood and briefly smiled at both of them.

“Hey.”

“Hey Benedict.”

With raised eyebrows but not commenting on their slightly awkward and shy encounter, Martin gently pushed them further and carefully – and without much fuss – Benedict helped her into the small boat. It took her a moment to regain her balance before she took a seat and waited for the two men to join her. Martin seemed desperate to be the steersman so Benedict took a seat opposite Charlotte next.

“Oh damn, I’ll be right back,” Martin mumbled all of a sudden but as he scrambled up the river bank he pushed the boat away from it, leaving Benedict and Charlotte on their own with the punt pole by their feet.

“Martin, hey,” she shouted, only then realising that Martin hadn’t forgotten anything after all but had been planning this for some reason or another. With slightly flushed cheeks and hoping Benedict didn’t have the same train of thought, she internally cursed her friends for conspiring against her before she at last looked up.

“I’m so sorry. Seems like I am Martin’s latest victim in his mission to distract the world from 'heartbreak’ ,” she apologised quietly, fidgeting with the straw in her drink. She didn’t dare look up at him. Surely he must think her silly for falling for Matthew in the first place. She had always felt there was some kind of rivalry between the two men and she wondered whether it was because Benedict actually worked for his position while Matthew…well, was being simply Matthew.


	8. Lessons Learned and Taught

##  **Chapter Eight -- Lessons Learned and Taught**

Benedict narrowed his eyes as he walked through the crowds at the impromptu party, the winds blowing warm air around the large area.  With a sigh, he buried his hands into his pockets, desperate to find Martin.  Martin mentioned he’d be around and he wanted to run some ideas for the next term’s colloquium that they would coordinate together.  Martin was one of the few people that Benedict found agreeable in Cambridge.  Benedict felt this way even though Martin seemed intent on finding love for him and everyone around them.

His denim shirt, rolled up to the elbows, kept him cool enough even as the sun began to fade over the river.  As he followed the embankment up the hill, he finally found Martin—standing next to a red-haired woman he immediately recognized.

“Hey,” he murmured as he walked over, feeling uncomfortable for entering into a conversation that he probably interrupted.  Charlotte’s smile managed to erase some of his unease and he tore his eyes away from the beautiful woman with the flowing dress, just as Martin placed an arm around him.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” he beamed, the words slurring just enough for Benedict’s eyebrow to raise.  Without allowing Martin to possibly drop Charlotte into the Cam from his inebriation, Benedict boarded the long yet thin boat first, offering her his hand for stability. He was unsurprised to find that her skin was as soft as he expected.  He immediately felt the sense of loss as he released her so she could seat herself.

As he took his seat opposite, he looked up to find the glint in Martin’s eyes that matched the smile on his face.  Before either occupant could stop him, their matchmaker exited the boat with a push, and down the river they went.

Benedict waved off Charlotte’s apology, “I think it is a part of Martin’s persona, he wants to be an incarnate of Cupid.” While Charlotte continued to stare into her drink, Benedict could make out a small smile that played on her rose tinted lips. His hands began to twist as he sighed, looking at the crowds for the party fade from their view.

His voice wavered with them being alone for the first time, “I-I mean, Martin’s always doing things like this to me too.  Maybe he decided it was best to put the two singles together.” As the words poured forth, he groaned at his stupidity.  While it was somewhat common knowledge of Matthew and Charlotte’s breakup, he did not have to verbalize that information.  Her eyes lost their faint shimmer and Benedict realized he’d screwed things up as soon as they started. Reaching for the pole, he managed to stand  and not fall out of the boat while he climbed to the punter’s position.

“I’ll steer us back,” he murmured, feeling as if someone slammed the pole into his chest.

Her head turned and the sunlight caught the golden strands around her temples, “Oh, do you have to? I find it kind of peaceful here.” They had floated down the river, passing Clare’s and it’s large and ornate walls that met the riverbanks, overlooking the green pastures beyond it.  The music became barely audible from behind them and Benedict felt that he could hear his heartbeat in his chest.

He gripped the pole a little tighter, “No, I don’t, I can take us around if you’d like.” Charlotte nodded gratefully before turning back towards the front of the boat, watching the people lie upon the grasses or those who walked along the pathways onto the tiny bridges that hung over them.  After passing under one, Charlotte turned to Benedict, almost making him drop the pole in shock.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she said and his eyes ran wide with wonder.  With a hard swallow, Charlotte began to twist her fingers together, and Benedict could not even hazard a guess as to her question.  He prayed it would not be a personal one, after all, what personal information could he give her? That he was a lonely, almost forty year old bachelor who loved books and wine over people?

No, the question would be far, far worse than he expected, “So, I received approval to teach a course that would incorporate literature and history together.  The course would teach different famous literary works, and then lecture on the framework of the historical references and timing behind them. I was wondering, well, if you’d like to teach the course with me.”  Her shoulder went up in a sort of shrug, almost expecting his response to be in the negative.

She was right—his first response in any other situation have been a firm no. Benedict already bemoaned the fact that he would be teaching not one, but two courses the next term. Add in his hatred of the classroom, plus the fact he’d be alongside Charlotte for an entire term in addition to planning, he could already feel that this could be a disaster beyond proportions.  This presented far too many opportunities for him to make an arse of himself.

Benedict’s face must have illuminated some of his unsaid concerns, as Charlotte held up one hand, waving it in front of her face, “It’s okay, I know your book will be released and you’re so busy with your research and teaching…” Her disappointment crushed him, as his defenses dropped.

“I’ll do it,” he said, and for a second, he wondered if it was his own mouth that produced the words.  However, Charlotte’s face changed from confusion to relief as she gushed forth.

“You will? Are you sure? I mean, I know there’s so much going on next term and you’re not a fan of being in the classroom, I- well, that’s the rumor.”

Benedict could not stop the laugh from springing forth from his lips, “Well, it’s true. I’d rather be working on research but that’s complete. The book will be published soon, hence King’s reminding me that they are a ‘teaching institution’ wherefore, I am to be part of said teaching.” Charlotte laughed, and Benedict realized she was laughing with him, not at him.  No one ever laughed at his dry humor.

Moving them down the river he began to talk himself into the idea, “I could speak with Kings and see if we could combine the two colleges and make it a shared lecture.  That would take one of my courses off the load, and either Peter or Allen can teach the level one course next term.” That already began to lift his spirits as Charlotte’s hands began to work in circles.

Her eyes went wide, “Wonderful! We could find time to prepare the courses, we can discuss our favorite combinations of history and literature and then decide how to present them. Maybe one day this week we could meet and start deciding on the basics? Then I could put together a syllabus and present to Dan, and for you to give to your Head?” Benedict cringed at the thought, but decided that in the end, this would be a greater alternative than two hundred first years who had not mastered MLA style.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re _what_?” Allen asked, not hiding one bit of the incredulous tone that ran through his words.  Benedict merely looked upward from his desk, attempting to remain cool in front of his students.

“Yes, I know it sounds strange, but I will be teaching a course with one of the Professors from Clare College on Literature and History.”  The room went silent before Peter apparently decided to speak before thinking.

“But, you hate teaching.” Benedict’s head snapped up and Allen jumped to his younger colleague's defense.

His palms raised upward, “What he means is, you were upset that Kings put you on the schedule for two classes in the fall, why would you take a third? And working with another Professor?”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it—I have to teach two classes. Just two, and after I spoke with Dr. Dench, she is willing to allow students from Kings attend the course.  Therefore…”

Allen looked over at Peter with a defeated grimace, “You’ll have someone else teach one of the classes originally on the schedule.” Peter's eyes went wide.

“We’ll have the students who applied for fellowship do the legwork and grading, as such. Peter, I’d like to see a sample syllabus for the level one course on my desk by the end of next week, hm?” He shuffled a few more papers into his briefcase, unsure if Peter was still awestruck by the idea or dumbfounded that he’d be risen up to the level of teaching.

Allen elbowed him and Peter jumped, “Yes, sir—Professor Cumberbatch, I’ll have that on your desk next week.” He smiled at Allen who looked the proud father before the younger man grabbed his bag and headed out of the offices to his next class.  However, Benedict’s Head Assistant remained unconvinced as to the nature of this arrangement.

Before he could question Benedict further, there was a knock at the door, “Matthew!” Benedict beamed, “Thought your flight left already.” No love was lost between the two, especially after the events of one who had been so high on the ranks at the College, and who was now leaving in a bit of disgrace.

“I wanted to return a few of these books of yours, Benedict. I found them in my office at home.” He walked through, putting them on his desk and looking around before nodding to Allen.  It appeared Allen remained rooted to the spot, not wanting to miss this interaction.

Benedict laughed under his breath, “Well, much appreciated Dr. Goode.  You enjoy that semester in The States. It will be a great opportunity for you.” He refrained from stating that he’d be much happier if the good Doctor would remain in America, but the smirk that played on his lips betrayed his inner thoughts.

Matthew shuffled his feet, “Thanks, I’ll keep in touch and  be back for the book release.  Wouldn’t want to miss that.” It appeared he had more to say, but another knock at the door took all their attentions. Benedict felt his heart fall at the sight of Charlotte, wondering if she was looking for Matthew before his departure.  

That notion went out the window as she brushed past her former flame and strode into the office, "Good Morning all! Benedict, I was at Fitzbillies this morning before I headed into Clare's and bought you a sticky bun and latte.  Milk and four sugars, right?" She nodded to Allen, completely ignoring Matthew who stood like a scolded child in the middle of the room.

His voice blessedly returned to his body, snapping to attention as his hand reached for the tray, "Thank you very much Charlotte."  Allen and Charlotte exchanged pleasantries while Matthew cleared his throat.  Either Charlotte did not hear him or refused to acknowledge his existence in the room as she continued.

"I guess I am a little excited about our working together on this class, since we received approval from both Kings and Clare's for the next term.  I wondered if you had some time this morning to talk about the curriculum and which books we would be teaching. I was even thinking we could use something that would integrate your new book into our class as well.  After all, with you as one of the lecturers it should be a very popular course." Her eyes flashed with pride, and Benedict felt a bit stunned with her obvious enthusiasm.

Allen, moved towards them, all too comfortable with this new knowledge, "Dr. Donaghue, we were actually deciding on lunch when you arrived. The cafe is open downstairs, you could grab something with Dr. Cumberbatch to eat and take it onto the lawn outside.  It's quite a balmy and gorgeous day." He looked to be holding back a laugh in his throat, an area that Benedict desired to wrap his hands around.

"Would be a perfect opportunity to strategize this _fascinating_ class in the next term."

To his shock, Charlotte remained agreeable, "That sounds great! I've only had my coffee today and I'm starving." Her eyes trailed to him with a smile, and he felt that jolt through his spine.  The one that happened every time her smile appeared in his presence.  The smile he thought about when he was home alone with those books and his wine.  With a sigh, Benedict silently mused that there were far too many people in Cambridge vested in managing his love life.  


	9. It's Only Dinner

Had she known Matthew would be there to witness their exchange? No. Did she enjoy his unease as she strode past him and ignored his presence to talk to Benedict and get acquainted with Allen? Greatly.

To the latter she had taken an immediate liking. She'd heard about him before from Pauline and he seemed very promising and popular, not only with the (female) students. Leaving Matthew in his office, they all headed downstairs to the café before Allen excused himself and left them be. 

The atmosphere between the two was hard to describe. Both desperately wanted to feel comfortable with the other it seemed and yet something was holding them back. Charlotte didn't want to give the impression she wanted to use him for revenge on her ex and Benedict...well, he was simply Benedict.

"It's such a lovely day, don't you think?," she mumbled once they'd grabbed some lunch and found a more private spot by the river to eat. Her hair was flying around in the wind, occasionally obstructing her view until, at last, she tied it into a messy bun atop her head. Blushing a little, she looked at Benedict next to her.

"Yes,...yes. A lovely day indeed. Now, about the seminar...," he began to stutter and after a moment of hesitation she placed her hand on top of his.

"What do you say about discussing the seminar in more detail over dinner. Tonight maybe? I could cook. Pauline is gone, too, so we'd be undisturbed," Charlotte smiled before she quickly, and embarrassedly, added, "To discuss work, I mean. Nothing, um...nothing else. Oh god, I'm sorry." With a quiet groan she turned away from him a little, holding onto her food container and looking out onto the river.

Next to her Benedict did not quite seem to get the ambiguous meaning of her words and he only nodded. "Yes. Yes of course. Well, dinner sounds lovely. What time would suit you?"

It felt a bit like setting up an appointment at the dentist, she thought, and once they'd agreed on a time – half seven – they began to eat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts that could not have been more different.

***

"I can't believe I've said that. He probably thinks I'm just some kind of desperate loser who wants revenge on her ex for hurting her and uses the next best man to do that," she groaned that afternoon once she and Pauline had arrived back at their house. 

Chuckling quietly to herself, Pauline tried to calm a very excited Oscar who was bouncing around their legs while she left her coat by the door. "I'm sure he doesn't. With Benedict it's...well, let's say he's not Matthew. His brain works in different directions, if you get my meaning."

Confused, Charlotte looked up from the knot in her shoelaces she had just tried to untie. "Oh. Is he gay?"

Pauline's answer got lost in the massive laughing fit that shook her and lasted until she had reached her bedroom upstairs. With a sigh, the redhead looked at her boxer. "Oscar, help me. I always seem to get it wrong."

***

By the time, Pauline left their house again that evening, delicious smells were wafting around the rooms already. Eager to impress her 'colleague', Charlotte had made Shepherd's Pie after her mother's recipe and along with it a salad while in the fridge a Strawberry&Coconut Trifle was waiting to be devoured. She was showered and changed – the decision had been made in favour of her new dark-blue maxi skirt and a white shirt – had tidied their dining and living room, had bought some more wine, and had carried every book downstairs that she thought they might need tonight. 

"Alright, have fun tonight. And relax, Charlotte. I'm sure he won't think you want to sleep with him. And even if you wanted to, what's the big deal? He could definitely do with some of that," Pauline grinned and after one last wave she was out of the house leaving her friend to fidget with her hair as she thought about her dinner guest.

Her eyes kept moving to the clock above the door and each minute seemed to pass slower as she waited for Benedict's arrival. It felt funny. Not like a work meeting but also not like a date. It wasn't meant to be a date anyway but now she wondered if inviting him to her home this quickly has been the right thing to do. Maybe they should have met at a pub instead? Or at Clares the next day? The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts and now it was too late anyway to undo anything. Smoothing down her skirt once more and checking her reflection in the hallway mirror, Charlotte called back Oscar and made him sit by the living room entrance before she opened the door.

"Benedict, hello. Please, come in. This is Oscar but I think you know him already," she said, smiling but nervous. When he greeted her with a hesitant and slightly awkward kiss on the cheek she could smell his cologne. It was her favourite.

"Charlotte, good evening. And hello Oscar. We have met before indeed," he smiled shyly as he greeted the excited dog who was now jumping around their legs before he dropped to the floor, expecting a tummy rub. "Um, I brought some wine. I hope you like Malbec. It's my favourite so...yes." Their fingers touched briefly as he handed her the bottle and with a smile she thanked him.

Shooing Oscar out of the way, Charlotte led Benedict through to the dining room where the table had been set for two – no candles, this was a work meeting – and while she headed to the kitchen to get their dinner, he looked around the room. They had a study upstairs and yet both her and Pauline's books had spilled into the shelves downstairs already. The odd picture frame was standing here and there as well, showing happy moments with friends or special moments with family. 

When she re-entered the room, the casserole with their Shepherd's Pie in her gloved hands, he was standing in front of a photo showing her and her sisters. "I'm sorry, I did not want to pry," he mumbled, a little embarrassed before offering his help. 

"Oh no, it's fine. Please, look around as much as you like," she waved him off with a smile. 

"Is this your family?," he asked, somewhat encouraged by the gentleness in her eyes.

Leaving the dish and her oven gloves aside, Charlotte stepped next to him. "Yes. This is my mother, my older sister Elisabeth, and my younger sisters Martha, Marian, and Becky, the latter of which are twins. And all-girls household so to speak," she explained, a little bit of melancholy in her voice. She missed them and didn't visit as often as she'd like but eventually they'd meet again for their annual summer party in Glasgow. They all had their birthdays in July and August and to minimise the workload for all of them, they had agreed a few years ago to celebrate their birthdays together each year and they always met in Glasgow, where their mother and two of the sisters still lived. 

Benedict nodded, consciously not inquiring about her father and his absence, and after a moment of comfortable silence she offered him a seat and served their dinner. Oscar was already sitting by his seat, his big, brown eyes looking up at Benedict pleadingly. He knew Charlotte was hardened against his efforts but maybe this newcomer would yield and offer him some scraps or his entire portion. It was worth a try at least.

"Please, ignore him. He tries it with everyone but he'll realise eventually that it is for naught," Charlotte apologised once their plates had been filled and their wine poured. Briefly, Oscar looked at her, seemingly accusing her of ruining his chances before he had a proper possibility to try, but he did not yet give up and instead moved a little closer, his head now almost resting on Benedict's thigh.


	10. The Start of Something New

“No…no….no.”

With droplets still cascading from his hair onto his shoulders, Benedict thumbed through his closet. Each crisp button down in front of him was strategically placed on its hangar and faced the same direction. White seemed too formal, light blue appeared too casual.  It struck him that he never cared this much about what to wear, especially for a dinner with a colleague.

The chiming of his phone took his thoughts away from colour choices at the present.  For a split second, he wondered if it was Charlotte calling off the evening.  After all, maybe she found something better to do than a boring night with him.

He let out a huge sigh at the message which flashed on the screen: _What are you up to tonight, dear doctor? —Martin._

Benedict realized he had two options: a lie or the truth.  A lie would only get him in further, as Martin would clearly know if Benedict had real plans (as everyone knew everything in the small town of Cambridge).  If Benedict lied and said he was home, then Martin would pester him incessantly until he relented.  However, the truth could cause even more issues.

Against his judgement, he decided upon the latter, and hoped that it would not cause a burst of hysteria: _I’m having dinner with Dr. Donaghue while we review our ideas for the shared seminar next term._ Dropping the phone back onto his bed, he reached in and pulled out a gray shirt, not one he wore frequently, with white applications throughout.  As he slipped it on, he heard a succession of chimes behind him.

As he expected, there were the hysterics:

_Stop lying to me Benedict  —Martin_

_Holy shit, Pauline just confirmed it —Martin_

_DON’T MESS IT UP BENEDICT! —Martin_

_Benedict, listen to me.  Be nice, listen to her, try not to be in your own head the entire time.  Just—don’t be so …you!  –Martin_

“Christ,” Benedict muttered.  He decided on a navy jacket to go over his shirt, and he spayed a few dashes of cologne on his neck and wrists.  With a run of his fingers through his hair, he grabbed his glasses and the bottle of wine before he headed out and onto Trinity Lane and towards Charlotte’s home.

His heart never ceased the thumping in his chest, although, Benedict remained quick to believe it was from exertion and not from nerves.  As he approached the house, he twisted the bottle in his hands before knocking on the door.

“We’re here to discuss the course,” he muttered under his breath to no one but himself.  When the door opened, he knew that discussion would be difficult.  Of course Charlotte looked amazing, she always did.  However, tonight, she appeared even more radiant in his mind, his eyes glancing over her long red curls that flowed onto her white shirt.  

Oscar immediately recognized Benedict and began nudging his nose into him. When Benedict looked up, Charlotte appeared to anticipate something—and it took a moment for him to realize he hadn’t said a word. He froze for a second, not sure what to do.

 _Do I shake her hand? No, too formal. Do I give her a hug? No, we’re not friends, we’re colleagues. Shit, well…_ Benedict hesitantly leaned into Charlotte and pecked her cheek. Her skin was soft under his lips, and her hair brushed against his nose.  Her perfume reminded him of the flowers behind St. John’s College, the ones with the pink leaves and white centers. He loved those flowers.

As she led him into the dining room, he could smell something divine floating through the house, and the fact he’d eaten nothing but eclairs from Patisserie Valerie that morning became clear.  His stomach rumbled as he waited and to pass the time, he looked over the photos on a mantle.  

He could tell that the one in front of him was of Charlotte’s family.  All the girls had the same gorgeous hazel eyes, the same billowy curls around their head.  His host’s warm smile told him she had not been bothered by his curiosity.  He wondered however, with all the girls and their mum appearing so loving, as to what were the whereabouts of her father.  It was not his place to question, and he sat down across from her, straightening out the fork and knife alongside his plate.  

“Thank you for this,” he said with a smile, “I love a home cooked meal.” Charlotte appeared pleased by his words.

Her smile widened as her eyes sparkled, “That is very sweet! I figured you eat a great deal of fancier foods than this.” Her head tilted to the tray of Shepherd’s Pie and Benedict nodded in agreement.

“I usually do,” he said, and Charlotte’s smile finally faltered.  With a shake of his head and disgust in the pit of his stomach at himself, he continued.

“What I mean is, I make things and sometimes they’re these grand operations.  I have Alain Ducasse’s cookbook and I tend to spend hours in the kitchen. I can become very focused, which has it’s plusses and minuses.

“However, I truly enjoy a meal like this: something simple but entirely delicious just as much. I wish I could just learn how to do that—just enjoy it.”

“I could always show you some night,” Charlotte said and immediately reached for her wine and took a long pull.  Benedict shrugged and did the same, figuring she probably felt bad for him. His eyes trailed over the books that were stacked next to them.

“Getting ideas already?” he grinned as his eyes trailed over books spanning a few centuries.  He saw some literature from the early 16th century and beyond, books on the Industrial Revolution as well as many from the social struggles of the mid-19th century. He took another forkful and spoke between bites.

“These are…great…” he managed as Charlotte giggled.  It came as a shock that he was not put off by her ways, rather, he never felt that she was uncomfortable in his presence.  Could it be she actually enjoyed his company?

 _No, don’t believe that.  You’re nowhere near her league,_ he conceded. Pushing the thought aside as he wiped his mouth with the napkin, he murmured, “These are from many different time periods.  Do you think we should take a piece from each century? Make it a sampling of literature and history? We could delve into the archetypes, the motifs of each genre in comparison with the political and social subject matter of the age.”

Charlotte frowned and he wondered if he had offended her as her lithe finger tapped against the hardwood, “Initially, I thought that too, but I wonder—what if we kept to a certain time frame? That would be a clear theme for the course and we could start in the 18th century and follow the industrial revolution until the early 20th.  Does that sound reasonable?”

Ben merely nodded and Charlotte jumped in, “I am just thinking we might have some first years.  It would be hard for them to keep up with an expanded time frame with the course requirements.  Unless you think otherwise, you have far more experience than me…”

“No! I think it’s fine. Sometimes, I get ahead of myself and forget those kinds of logistical things.” He felt the blush creep up his cheeks and he grabbed his glass for more wine.

Charlotte smiled knowingly at him, and she raised one of her index fingers, “You know? I think I might have a good book for the late 19th century—it’s Pauline’s.  I’ll be right back, keep eating!” She scampered from the table and he watched her glide across the room and up the stairs.

For a moment, he was lost in his thoughts: _What am I doing here? I hate teaching, and I know I’ll fuck this up somehow. What If it impacts her tenure at Clare’s? I’ll have to be on my game and not distracted by her, as hard as that will be…but it’s no matter. She’s far too beautiful and kind to have any interest in me._

Distraction came in the form of a dog’s head on his leg and he looked down into Oscar’s deep brown eyes.  Benedict rubbed right behind Oscar’s ears, receiving a happy huff in return.  Spying a piece of lamb, untouched, Benedict grabbed it and gave it to his new friend. With a quick glance upward to his owner’s return, Oscar fell to the floor to devour the delight and Benedict continued his own meal.  Out of the corner of his vision, he could tell Charlotte focused on Oscar and his treat. She sat down with a smile and placed the book next to them.

“I hope you’re _both_ enjoying dinner,” she said and with a smile as bright as the rising sun and she raised her glass to them both.

As they finished dessert, Charlotte jotted down their notes in a brightly colored notebook.

“I think we have a good first draft of the syllabus.  I know Dan is looking for something so once it’s approved, we can send the course out and a required reading and book list, as well.”

Benedict nodded, finishing off the last of the trifle which was so exquisite, he was tempted to ask to take some home.  He spooned the last of it and rested his hand around his coffee cup, feeling quite full and yet not ready to leave. She eyed him as he spoke.

“Splendid.  And thank you for lending me _North and South_. I will read it in the next day or so and I’ll decide on an appropriate history companion.“

"Not a problem! I am surprised you haven’t read it before.”

He blushed a little, “Guess it was never required reading.”  He thumbed through the book, a large one, but he was certain he could finish it with ease.

“We should talk again to finalize everything. I will be busy with my editor this week and also working on my own course for the next term.” He finished with a groan and Charlotte giggled, twirling her own coffee cup in it’s saucer.

“However,” he continued, “Would you like to come to my place next time?” Her face fell and he waved his free hand in front of his chest.

“Only if you wanted, truly. I just wanted to repay you for the dinner you cooked and being put out tonight…” His shoulders dropped as she jumped in.

“I’d love to!” Benedict’s lips curled in a smile and he realized he should probably leave.  They’d both had the entire bottle of wine and he worried he would be apt to cause some problem or said something wrong, it was time to head home.  He stood and rubbed Oscar’s head once more before buttoning his jacket and heading to the door.

“Thank you again for a lovely evening.  You have a wonderful home and the food was spectacular.” She scoffed at him and he smiled—a genuine one.

“It was! I really enjoyed it.” Once again, he felt the nerves perk up in his stomach, as to how he would say goodbye.  He really was not sure if he should kiss her again—was once too bold this evening?

Apparently, Charlotte did not agree with that fact as she raised up onto her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “Thank you so much, Benedict. I look forward to working with you.” Her smile lightened her face and he murmured something of a “You’re welcome… I’ll see you soon” but it tangled up entirely.  

As he escaped into the night air, the stars high in the sky over Cambridge, his fingers pressed where Charlotte’s soft lips touched his cheek.  He held it there for most of his walk back home.

* * *

"What did she say?”

“Did she like it? Was she happy that you surprised her?”

Martin and Allen stood like two excited school children waiting for an ice cream when Benedict walked back into his offices.  Peering over his glasses, he rounded his desk in silence before placing his briefcase down.

“She wasn’t there. She went to the museum with Dan.”

Allen looked to Martin and back at Benedict, “So?”

Benedict’s hair rose on his neck, his voice strained, “So, I left her book along with the cake from Patisserie on her desk.”  He shook his head in disbelief before Martin rolled his head.

“No! You shouldn’t have left it! The idea is to give it to her, Benedict! She needs to know that you thought enough of her to remember to return the book and bring her something sweet!” He looked almost pained in his eyes.

Ben snapped, “I did, hence why I left it there!”

Martin threw his hands in the air, “Oh God, you’re impossible! You’re doing something nice for someone! You don’t leave it on their desk so that the cake runs everywhere and she thinks you dropped the book off with no interest! You’re going to be working with her _for an entire term_ , you have to act a little less sterile and more like a friend!” Allen merely nodded in agreement, aware that he should not get too involved in the situation as Benedict still remained his mentor and in essence, his boss.

“Well, what would you have me do then, Martin? Return over to Clare’s and get the cake and book?”

“Yes!” both men yelled and Martin continued.

“Get it and go back tomorrow–with a new cake, mind–and make sure you talk to her.  Tell her that you wanted to thank her, in person, and are looking forward to furthering your academic discussions.”

Benedict grit his teeth, words hissed, “This is ridiculous.”

“No,” Martin said, crossing the room in front of Ben, “This is how colleagues work together.  Please! For the love, do the right thing!”

“Fine!” Benedict snapped before he strode around the two and headed back through Kings towards Charlotte’s office in Clares.  Thankfully, the two buildings were close enough and in no time, Benedict was striding through the halls, weaving through students to find the Head of Literature’s office.

The cake and book were just as he left it, and he grabbed both, ready to eat the dessert himself for all this insanity.  At that moment, a text caught his eye and he walked back to her desk.

He must have missed it the first time, thinking he could get away with leaving the gift and running.  However, there in the middle of Charlotte’s desk, were all of Benedict’s previous publications, the texts he’d written since he began at Cambridge.  At the bottom were copies of his research, papers he wrote for different journals. His fingers ran over the large stack of paper, feeling confused, and yet his heart beat just a little bit faster as well.  


	11. Thunder&Lightning

"Thank you so much for taking me. That was so interesting! I can't believe I haven't been before." Leaving her blazer on the back of her chair, Charlotte leaned against her desk again now that she and Dan had returned from their trip to the Fitzwilliam Museum. They'd had a special exhibition about Turner's earlier works and, knowing how much she loved the painter, the Head of English had taken her to see it. 

"Oh you're very welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I go there often. It's free and quiet and usually not too busy," he smiled before glancing at his watch. "I'm afraid I need to leave you now, though. My Mum is coming for a few days and I wanted to pick her up from the station." With another smile and a wave he was off and Charlotte plopped down onto her seat when her eyes fell onto the texts and books in front of her. 

With a smile she went through them, carefully choosing a few that would be her afternoon read before she headed outside and to the river, her favourite spot on the campus.

The next day was grey and rainy and when she arrived at her office in the morning Oscar looked just as unhappy as she did about the weather. Luckily she had brought along a thermos flask of tea as well as some coffee and after turning on her favourite desk lamp – the one that bathed the entire room into a cosy little haven – she settled down in the armchair in the corner and continued yesterday's reading. 

It was Oscar who heard him first and while Charlotte was still lost in Benedict's chapter on the traces of the Byzantine Empire in the writings of Medieval English Monasteries, the man himself knocked almost shyly onto her office door. With a wagging tail, Oscar headed to the door, remembering his friend from the dinner the other night and it was then Charlotte looked up.

"Yes?"

Slowly, the door opened and Benedict entered, looking almost guilty for disturbing her. "Um, hello. I hope I'm not interrupting you?"

Quickly, she placed the book aside and almost knocked over her tea in the process. "Oh no, no, not at all. Please come in. Sorry, I was just reading your book and it's so interesting, I didn't hear you. But anyway, sorry. How can I help you?" She was nervous all of a sudden, though she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe because he had achieved so much more already. Maybe because she found him rather attractive. Maybe because she was sure he didn't think like that about her.

"I just wanted to give you your book back and say thank you. I was here yesterday but you were out so...yes, I hope you like carrot cake?" Still holding the book in one hand, he offered her a bag from Patisserie Valerie with the other and because he had obviously walked through the torrential rainfall without an umbrella, his coat was dripping wet.

"I'm so sorry you had to come twice. Especially in this weather. You could have left the book, I'd have understood," she smiled, feeling bad because he'd gone to so much trouble just for her.

"No, Mart-, um, that would not have been very decent of me," he replied, quickly trying to cover the first, unfinished, part of his sentence. Outside, a strike of lightning lit up the buildings around them and quickly Oscar hid behind Benedict's legs. For a second, Charlotte hesitated before she said, "Are you in a hurry? Because the weather is simply dreadful and this piece of cake looks big enough for two. I also have tea that we could share and you could dry off a bit otherwise you'll catch a cold." Seeing his somewhat blank expression, Charlotte stopped herself and looked down onto the sweet treat in her hands.

"I'd understand if you're busy, though." Before Benedict had a chance to reply, loud thunder shook the area and a quiet whimper could be heard from Oscar.

"If I have the choice between thunder, rain and lightning or cake, tea and a warm office with some excellent company, the decision is easily made," he smiled, though, and quickly Charlotte freed the second armchair from books and papers while Oscar made sufficient use of his new protector against thunder and lightning.

Looking back, Charlotte couldn't tell how long they'd sat there together, drinking tea and eating cake and then either talking about his research she'd just read or listening to the calming sound of the rain as it hit the window. She found talking to Benedict easier once her initial shyness had worn off. He was so fascinating and she loved his dry humour. It was obvious he didn't like teaching but while other colleagues pretended they did – only to then bitch about students and their work afterwards – he openly admitted it wasn't his favourite part of being a professor at King's. 

"What about you? Do you enjoy teaching?," he asked, taking another sip of his tea while his other hand stroked along Oscar's head now that he had taken up his position by Benedict's side, realising that he was easily bribed into petting him – he simply had to look up at him with his big, brown eyes.

Charlotte watched the two for a moment, a content smile on her lips, before she answered, "I do actually, yes. Because I enjoy watching students discover things, maybe even discovering their own strengths and interests. I had great teachers when I was younger but also some very bad, uninterested ones. But how am I supposed to enjoy a certain subject if the teacher doesn't enjoy it? Passion for something is contagious, I've learned that, and I hope I am passionate enough to encourage students to learn, to ask questions, to dig a little deeper."

She blushed a little under Benedict's gaze. He looked genuinely interested and allowed her to finish her sentences and speak her mind. With Matthew she had often wondered if he was even listening. And if he was, he oftentimes didn't take her seriously and it had made her angry, very angry indeed. Benedict was different, in many ways.

***

After a brief knock on the door, Charlotte stepped into the office and with a big smile she offered him the by now very familiar red paper cup. "I thought you could probably do with some caffeine, like me," she grinned and took a sip of her own cappuccino. Oscar was leaning against her legs with a huff, not too happy about the heat that had now settled over Cambridge in mid-July. 

"Oh absolutely, thank you. Do you want to sit down?" Stirring his Latte, Benedict offered her the chair opposite but she declined with a shake of her head.

"No, I thought we could maybe go outside. The weather is so wonderful and I love sitting by the river." She didn't want to bat her eyelashes at him but it was tempting because today of all days it was essential that they'd go down to the riverbank.

It was Benedict's birthday, as she had found out a short while ago but as far as she knew, he didn't know that she knew that. Together with Martin, Allen, and Pauline, she had, therefore, organised a little picnic by the river with a few snacks and cupcakes and some drinks as well. Their present for him, apart from the 10th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica from 1901 – the only one still missing from his collection – would be a coffee tumbler which said "Whatever the question, the answer is no!" on the front. Martin had found that very fitting –and very amusing.

Of course he agreed to going outside and holding onto their coffee cups, they walked slowly over the empty lawns until they'd reached the other side of the river where the others where already waiting. For a moment Benedict stopped, unsure if he was interpreting the situation correctly, apparently, before Charlotte turned towards him with the biggest smile. 

"Happy Birthday, Benedict!"


	12. Many Happy Returns

“Uh…wait.  How did you know?”

Benedict could feel the red creeping up his face, an almost instinctual backing of his feet away from this situation.  Even though it was only four people, the focus on him—and that it was his birthday—brought up feelings of unease immediately. Pauline and Martin just shook their heads at him, while Charlotte placed a hand on his arm.

Her touch calmed him enough to look at her, “I happened to see it on one of the forms we filled out for the colleges.  I’m sorry, was this inappropriate?” The concern that filled her voice and eyes shook him from his stance and the minuscule part of his brain that understood emotion kicked in.  He needed to demonstrate a little bit of gratitude.

“Of course not, I—I’m just so surprised.  No one ever remembered my birthday before.”  His eyes turned from Charlotte’s simply to escape the look of pity he knew would appear. Rubbing his cheek he balanced his latte on the grass before sitting down on the far end of the succession of blankets which were spread out.

Martin took no time in slapping Benedict on the arm and exclaiming, “Many Happy Returns, old chum. I hope this is a thrilling year for you.” Martin held a box in his hands which Benedict accepted into his lap.  Charlotte plopped down next to him and began opening up the desserts before she reached across for the bottle of wine.  

Benedict moved to help her and in the process they bumped each other, causing simultaneous groans from both.  Pauline moved between them and took the bottle in her own hands.

“Seeing as you two will only cause more injury to the other if this continues…” she trailed off before pouring out some into a few small red cups.  Benedict mumbled a sorry while Charlotte merely rubbed her arm and shook her head.

He opened the package to find a tall, black refillable coffee tumbler.  On the front read: “Whatever the question, the answer is NO!” Benedict let out a snicker which caused Martin to gasp.

“You like it! My God, he actually likes something. You feeling well today, Benedict?  Not too hot in this July heat are you?” Benedict looked up and shot him a look that quieted the enthusiastic professor.

“Open the other one!” Pauline said with a smile and she indicated to large box that sat next to Allen.  Benedict’s protege handed it over with a sheepish grin.

“We all chipped in on this, Sir.”  He wondered what it could be, and especially with Allen involved.  He realized exactly how much he liked having him around, and that he needed to pay more attention to him if he’d be able to keep him at Kings.  He removed the bow, which opened the top to reveal several wrapped books.  Sliding his finger under the seam of the first one, Benedict unwrapped the multi-colored paper to find a rather familiar looking cover.  His brow furrowed as he turned it onto its spine.

_Encyclopaedia Britannica, 10th Edition: 1901_

With a gasp, he turned to Charlotte, who shrugged her shoulders, “I remember you saying you didn’t have this edition.  So, Allen and I managed to track down the eleven book set for you.” Her voice grew quieter as she spoke and her eyes trailed to her fingers which twisted around each other.

He was speechless, in shock that people would not only remember but do something so kind to him for his birthday.  Usually, he spent the day wandering around Cambridge, visiting the University bookstore and then taking a walk down the river.  Sometimes he’d be home in time for the obligatory phone call from his parents, but he learned to spend most of the day outside.  Dinner would be something simple and he’d try to write.  Birthdays were really just another day to him.  At least, until today.

An elbow in his side provided by Martin brought him back to the conversation, “Thank you so much. This is really something.  I never expected anything like this.” His hands roamed over the leather covering, showing the book the reverence it deserved.  His eyes raised up to the four around him, all with big beaming smiles.

“A toast!” Martin said as he rose up to his feet.  Charlotte handed Benedict his cup and squinting in the sunlight, they looked upwards.

“To Doctor Cumberbatch, may this be another successful and fruitful year at Cambridge.  We hope you find all the joys you’ve been looking for and deserve!” Everyone raised their glasses and cheered.  Benedict took a sip, trying not to be perturbed at Martin’s last comment.  Charlotte bounced a little next to him and his eyes instinctually went to her.

He never ceased to be amazed at how enthusiastic she was at all times.  He wished he had that capability.  Charlotte just seemed to exude life, and passion towards so much of the world. Teaching, literature, the arts, she wanted to experience it all.  Even when it came to the desserts they had for the party.  

“These eclairs are just superb! I swear, between Fitzbillies and Patisserie Valerie, I am never without something sweet in the house. Oh, here, Benedict—have one.” She handed it to him, and he nodded his head in agreement.

“These are my favorite, thank you.” He took a bite and looked over at her, the breeze blowing her hair back over her shoulder while the sun brought out so many different shades of red in her curls.  He wondered if they all even had names for how brilliant they appeared.

She laughed to herself at she motioned at him, “You have some chocolate—right there.” She motioned to his lip, and her hand reached out to him.  At the last second she snapped it back to her lap and Benedict wiped the sticky goodness off with his fingers. He felt his own face heat up before he mumbled his thanks.

“Well, Benedict, what’s the plan for today?” Pauline interjected them, as her eyes trailed from him to Charlotte.

“Oh, I was going to work a little on Charlotte and my course.  I had a few more ideas for the Industrial Revolution part and I thought since the college was empty it would be a good day to sit and gather some more ideas.”

“The research can wait,” Martin said as he refilled up Benedict’s cup. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself today.  Now, while I’m sure that being alone in your office would make you happy, something tells me a little birthday celebration wont kill you either.” He winked and Benedict nodded, feeling more at ease than he ever expected around people, people he could call friends.  

Charlotte’s hand rested on his and she smiled before mouthing the words, “Happy Birthday, Benedict.”

* * *

“You sure? This doesn’t look like I’m trying too much?” Benedict felt exhausted already and he had not even left his house.  

Martin tilted his head before crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I think it’s fine.  It’s a small birthday party—just a backyard BBQ, but I doubt you have anything that’s entirely casual in this closet.” His eyes trailed over the row of collared shirts and back to Benedict.

Ben smoothed down his green cardigan, rolled up to his elbows and pulled down the white t-shirt underneath. _Well, this is the best I can do with what I have…._

Martin smiled, “It’s fine! I’m sure it’ll cool off later.” Ben sighed before picking up the bag with presents for Charlotte, looking over the contents for the fortieth time to reassure himself everything was there.

“What did you get her?” Martin asked, motioning to Ben’s hand.

“Oh, well, I found a book on traditional French cooking. It has a little background on each dish that accompanies the recipe.  Then I found a nice white apron from William Sonoma. There’s also a comprehensive spice set from Spice Mountain and a small jar of truffle oil.” His fingers played in the bag before looking back up.

Martin’s eyebrows raised before he pursed his lips, “Wow.  That’s a really nice gift, I’m sure she’s gonna appreciate all of it.” Benedict thought he saw a smile on his colleague’s face before they walked out the door—and found Allen at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hello! We’re all going to the same place?” Allen had a package in his hand as well.  Martin nodded and the three walked off towards Charlotte and Pauline’s place.  Martin’s voice trailed over his shoulder.

“I haven’t spoken with Charlotte since she returned from Glasgow, have you, Benedict?”

“Yes, she just called to tell me about the party and that she had a nice time at home. She’s looking forward to seeing all of us tonight.” Allen smiled at Martin and Benedict nearly blurted out why he’d have that reaction when Martin cleared his throat.

“That’s great! Pauline called me, so I was just curious.  So…there’ll be a few people from Clare’s obviously, a few from Kings and a few from Trinity that she met from last term.  Not too many, I’d assume, but it should be some good fun.”

The walk seemed quicker than Benedict remembered and soon they were ushered in by Pauline, where they could hear some of the guests had begun to celebrate in the backyard.  Benedict held back as Charlotte came forward when she saw them walk through the patio doors.

She looked even more rested than before, but of course, that light that shone in her poured forth as she welcomed the gentlemen, “Thanks for coming guys, oh, you didn’t have to do that!” She accepted a kiss from both Martin and Allen as they gave her their gifts.  Benedict inhaled before he smiled at his future teaching partner.

“Happy Birthday, Charlotte.  I hope you had a lovely holiday.  Um, this is for you—obviously.” Her eyes went wide at the bag before she looked up to Ben.  Without thinking about it too much, he leaned down to kiss her cheek, and he felt her lips on his in response.

“I’m so glad you came. I bought some red wine I think you’ll like.” He followed her over to the table, where a few people were mingling.  He could see over in the far corner, Dan had taken up position at the grill, and he seemed pretty proud of himself at his command.  

Charlotte held up a glass for Ben and he motioned around the area, “Everything looks lovely, Charlotte. Especially you.” His mouth snapped shut, wondering why he’d say such a thing.

She didn’t seem to mind as she laughed and brushed against his arm, “Thank you. You look quite rested yourself.  I hope we don’t tire each other out too much this term.” With a wink, she held up her glass, which Benedict clinked with his own before they each took a long sip.

 


	13. An Evening With Friends

"Don't tell me that's another one of your colleagues!" Charlotte laughed with a quiet sigh as the familiar voice, accompanied by the person it belonged to, appeared by her side.

"Rebecca, meet Benedict. He and I will be teaching a course together next term. Benedict, meet my younger sister, Rebecca," she introduced the two, already waiting for another comment from her little sister.

"Please, call me Becky, everyone does. And what are you teaching, Benedict? The composition of the human body, by any chance?"

Inwardly, Charlotte groaned at her sister's sense of humour and for a moment Benedict only stared at her. "No, History, actually. Otherwise teaching with Charlotte would be rather difficult now, wouldn't it?" She had to snicker quietly because either he didn't get her sister's little innuendo or he had chosen to ignore it. Either way, Becky raised her eyebrows in admiration and lifted her glass. 

"What a clever cookie you are. Right up Charlie's street, I'd say. I'll leave you two to it then," she grinned, clearly enjoying making the birthday girl blush before she sauntered off and back to Dan to comment on his BBQ skills, which he enjoyed greatly.

"I'm so sorry. I'd love to say she isn't always like that but she is, really. Her twin sister, Marian, over there by Pauline, is a lot quieter, though. You'd like her I think." After a brief pause she quickly added, "Not like that, I mean...well, maybe...um, anyway... why don't I have a look at your present?" Quickly, she tried to distract from her comment and she picked up the bag he had given her before, her cheeks still flushed, especially under his warm gaze. Did he really not realise the effect he had on her?

Carefully, she took out the first present and unwrapped it carefully. "Oh wow. This is amazing, thank you!" Eyes wide, she looked up at him with a huge smile before looking through the recipe book. It had so many things she already liked in it and Charlotte couldn't wait testing the recipes. Before she got too lost in reading, though, Martin took it out of her hands so she could unwrap the next one.

Laughing quietly, she unfolded it before getting up and tying it around her waist already. "Do I have to address you as Dr Donaghue in the kitchen now?," Pauline laughed as she saw the name written on the top and Charlotte placed her hands on her hips. "Well yes, obviously," she answered in feigned arrogance, causing everyone to laugh. Only Benedict looked a bit nervous. 

"Was that wrong? Should I have put Charlotte instead?," he mumbled once she'd sat down again but quickly she shook her head. "No, I love it. I really do. Thank you so much!," she smiled, placing her hand on his knee when Martin handed her the remaining presents from the bag. They, too, were carefully opened and her eyes went wide at the contents. 

"Oh my god, truffle oil! And spices from Spice Mountain. That's at London's Borough Market. I love that stall! Thank you so much, Benedict! I love it, all of it!," and with that she hugged him and pressed a kiss onto his cheek, one that lasted slightly longer than probably necessary. 

Both were so preoccupied that neither noticed Becky, Dan and Allen watching them from across the small garden, each of them a knowing smile on their lips. "By the end of the year these two will not just be teaching classes together," Becky grinned as she took another sip of her wine and Dan next to her grinned.

"Yep, agreed. About time, too. Benedict's been alone for way too long and Charlotte does him good, you can see that already. Still can't believe she's actually managed to get him somewhat excited about teaching a course. He hates teaching on his own." 

Allen next to him merely nodded, unwilling to make a comment about his boss that might be misunderstood but he too agreed with Dan and with a smile his eyes lingered a moment longer on the two who were going through the recipe book now while Oscar had rested his head on Benedict's knee, hoping to get a few head rubs from him, as usual.

***

It was dark but still warm enough to be outside by the time Charlotte could feel the impact of the alcohol she had consumed all evening long. A few of her guests had left already but her closest friends and siblings were still here, laughing, drinking, and enjoying themselves.

"Okay, we need to praise tonight's chef again for his excellent barbecue skills," Becky giggled and once more Dan puffed his chest out, clearly enjoying the attention from Charlotte's younger sister. They'd been chatting most of the evening and got along like a house on fire while Marian and Allen, both somewhat quieter than the others present, had also spent quite some time talking.

Charlotte was floating from group to group, making sure everyone was happy and nothing was missing. Most of the time, however, she was by Benedict's side and successfully distracted him from talking about work all evening. 

"So what is your most favourite holiday destination?," she asked with a smile up at him as she leaned against the wall behind her. She could feel her cheeks were a bit flushed and she hoped it wasn't too obvious that she was a bit tipsy from all the wine and champagne.

Lowering his eyes for a moment, Benedict thought about her question before he smiled at her again. "I think that would be Greece. It's a country that's got such a rich history and it's visible in every corner. And I'm not just speaking about the large cities. I went to some smaller towns and everyone's been so welcoming. You should go one day, if you haven't been yet."

"Will you be my guide then?," Charlotte replied, batting her eyelashes at him, before she realised what she'd actually said and to whom she'd said it. She had been distracted by the shimmer in Benedict's eyes as he spoke about something he liked, and by the way his lips curled when he smiled that she hadn't actually thought about what came out of her mouth. She could feel the heat rise up on her face even more now and lowering her eyes she fiddled with the drink in her hand, wondering whether she should apologise.

"Oh, I hadn't really planned on travelling more this year but I could lend you some of my guide books," he said instead, seemingly unaware of how she had actually meant it. Charlotte tried to smile and nodded briefly. 

"Yes, that would be nice, thank you." Her eyes returned to the liquid in her glass when a quiet "Oh!" Left Benedict's lips and she looked up again. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't...I hadn't thought you...well, I'd love to go back one day for sure and show someone around. Travelling with the right person can be wonderful," he stammered, blushing himself a bit now as he fiddled with the hem of his cardigan. Charlotte, though, still felt awful for saying something he probably considered to be entirely inappropriate and she hoped he'd forget it soon enough. 

It was Becky calling her name that interrupted their moment of awkward silence that had followed. "Come on, Charlotte. We've put on a classic. Get your dapper dancing partner and move your bum over here," she giggled as Dan twirled her around the makeshift dancefloor already. Charlotte bit her lip when she heard what song was playing – I'll never break your heart by the Backstreet Boys – but of course Becky didn't let them off the hook so easily.

"Come on, Benedict. I'm sure you know how to dance. Treat the birthday girl, will you?," she called out at him and both Martin and Allen looked at them now. Obviously feeling the pressure, he placed his glass aside and offered her his hand with a shy smile.

"Shall we?"

Charlotte nodded and, placing her glass aside, too, she placed her hand carefully in his. His was soft and warm and when he placed his other hand gently on her waist, a pleasant shiver ran up her spine. He smelled good and was just that little bit taller than her that made it wonderfully easy to dance with him. Charlotte couldn't help but smile and, taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. Not for the first time she found herself wondering what it was like to be kissed by him. Would he be gentle and slow or was there someone else behind that calm façade, someone more passionate and adventurous. 

His eyes met hers and she blushed again before lowering her gaze to fix it on the small collar of his cardigan. She should not be thinking these things, not with him. He was a colleague, nothing more.


	14. French Cuisine

Benedict scanned over the myriad of items that lined up on his counter, counting them again to make sure he had everything in place.Straightening one of the boxes of flour, he finally raised his hands in defeat, knowing that he had all the items needed for a traditional French dinner.With another look at the clock over his entryway, he shook his hands, hoping the action would calm him. 

It was about time that he reciprocated the dinner that Charlotte made for him all those weeks ago.However, he still felt unease at her coming to his home.Of course, it was nothing on Charlotte’s part.Benedict forgot the last time he had a woman over, and it was even longer that he cooked for one of them. 

But instead, they were cooking _together_.In their last brief conversation, Charlotte mentioned how much she loved the book Benedict gave her for her birthday.When he suggested they try a meal out, she was more than accepting.Benedict wondered what took over his brain when the words flew out of his mouth, but here he was—readying for a French feast.They’d be preparing Coq au Vin with brown-braised onions and mushrooms au buerre. 

With a huff, he decided to cut a few more herbs for their meal. It allowed him to distract the thoughts in his mind that ran at a marathon pace.The weeks following Charlotte’s birthday party were packed with arrangements for the semester, reviewing over CV’s of the new students for his team and final meetings with his editor before his next book went into publication. He had not spent much time with his forthcoming teaching partner, and even he would readily admit—he missed her presence.

Charlotte herself needed a great deal of preparation for her first teaching semester at Clare’s and Benedict tried to ignore the voices in his mind that said she had been avoiding him.After all, this was an important time for the new fellow’s career, and Charlotte would be watched by not only her fellow teachers, but the students and administration as well.He reminded himself of that when he realized: they’d be in front of an entire class together.Something told him that the way that they managed a lecture hall would be quite different. 

As the pile of parsley grew into a mountain, Benedict’s mind went back to that night at Charlotte’s home. He could still feel the softness of her skin in his hand, the intoxicating smell of her perfume and shampoo that wafted to his nose.How when she moved closer to him, he could feel the tickle of her breath on the small slip of skin by his collar. 

In the weeks since, his mind frequently wandered into thoughts of pulling her body flush against his during that dance.How he could have pressed his hand into the small of her back to keep her close.He would drag his lips upon her cheek, moving down to her jawline and onto her ear. He would rest them against her neck, feeling her pulse while tasting her skin—he imagined it to be slightly warm and salty from the dancing that evening.His imagination also took him to wonder what sounds she’d make alongside his actions.

The knife hit the countertop with a _clang_ and Benedict took a shuddering inhale.  _That would have happened if I was more like Matthew or even Martin.  No, I’m just plain me, and I certainly would not be so confident with Charlotte. We’re teaching partners and friends and nothing more._

He couldn’t deny it: Charlotte permeated his thoughts on a frequent basis.He worried about this considering the term had not yet begun.Exactly how could he remain calm, especially with them together to prepare once per week and in front of their students once per week?Could he keep himselfpoised for nine weeks?Ensure that their friendship remained?Benedict knew if he messed that up, he would never forgive himself.

_Get yourself together, she’s going to be here in a few moments._

With a disgusted groan, he straightened his collar and checked his shoes once more as the doorbell rang.He stared at it for far too long, before it rang again and he realized that his feet needed to move him towards the door.Steadying himself, he opened it to find a pair of bright hazel eyes and a brilliant smile to match.

“Hi,” he murmured, aware that his face betrayed how he felt.She wore a gorgeous black dress, a fashion choice she seemed to prefer even during the break, but it made her seem more professional as compared to her colleagues. Didn’t stop him from staring, of course. He stepped aside to allow her entrance, and he noted her hands were full.Taking the opportunity, he leaned in to kiss her on her cheek.After all, he had precedent on that.

She brushed aside some of her curls to look at him properly, “Hello, and thank you for inviting me! Here’s some wine, I hope you like it, it came highly recommended. I also brought my apron and I picked up some macaroons for you.I know we have the soufflé, but—“ she trailed off but his eyes widened at the box.

“Oh, Laudree.How I love that place! Whenever I’m at Harrods, I make sure to grab a few before coming back home.” Benedict’s enthusiasm made Charlotte smile even more, and he ushered her further into the house.He looked at the wine, a woodsy Merlot from Italy and he knew it would go great with their dinner.Charlotte gazed over the kitchen as they walked in, and he fiddled with some of the utensils.Her eyes roamed over the two sauté pans that were bubbling and the various herbs and vegetables Benedict had strategically placed over the area.

“Did you start without me?” she asked. _Was she disappointed?_ He figured she wanted to cook to get the fundamentals down and get right to dinner, but she seemed ready to spend time in the kitchen with him as well.

He shrugged, “Just some of the sauces that take a bit longer, I started them so they’d be ready alongside the chicken.  However, I can show you what I did, they just need to simmer while everything else is going. This dinner has a few parts to it.”

“Okay,” she said, appearing to be relieved at that thought.Benedict shrugged it off and pulled out his own apron, before Charlotte pointed at him with a smile.

“That is not what I expected for you,” she said, laughter peppering her words.  He sighed and looked down at his white apron with the tea cup in the center.  The phrase, “History is my cup of Tea” circled the picture and he shook his head.

“Well,” he began, watching her as she put her personalized apron on before he cleared his throat, “It was a gift from a student of mine a few years back.  He was really something special, moved onto The States and took a position at Harvard.  He had quite the sense of humor, and this is representative.” Charlotte nodded along and tapped her fingers across the counter.

“I hope I make that kind of connection with my students too.”

“You will!” he said, jumping right in and catching her off guard, “I can already tell, you’re going to have a great following at Clare’s. You have a passion for literature and your students and the faculty will notice.” Turning away and grabbing the onions, he knew he already said too much.

“Thank you,” he heard her say before he turned around to see a grateful smile on her face, “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“Well, remember that the classroom and I aren’t good friends, so that may dampen my assessment.” She laughed again, and it made him laugh as well.  Knowing that she did not find him something to make fun of rather than someone to laugh with, put him at ease.

“Shall we, Doctor Donoghue? There’s a few pieces to this dinner and I think together we can do it rather well.” She put her hands on her hips and nodded.

“I’m your pupil tonight, Doctor Cumberbatch.”

* * *

The onions and chicken had been bubbling for a good while and they’d already broken into one bottle of wine—knowing they’d need it for cooking, of course.  Now it was time for the mushrooms and Benedict began demonstrating to Charlotte how they would gain the perfect sauté.

“So while they begin to cook, mushrooms will absorb all the fat—that’s what they do. See, it’s all gone.” She nodded alongside him, sipping her wine while he stirred and she poked in on their chicken again.He was glad she did, since Benedict’s vision frequently trailed to his cooking companion.

He cleared his throat as she brushed against him to hand him his glass, “And..well… you’ll see now the fats will reappear on the surface, allowing the mushrooms to brown.  We’ll have a few minutes to it finishing once that happens.”  He retreated to the dining room where the plates and silverware were already set and he picked up a serving platter for the rest of the dinner.  When he returned he found Charlotte wiping her hands down, a few stains marring the white of her apron, but she did not appear to mind.

“The way everything smells is making me ravenous,” she grinned, “I can’t believe we did all of this in under an hour.”

“Teamwork,” he said in response and looked up at her. A smile lingered on her lips as he began to spoon their dinner onto the plate.She placed her hand on his and kept it there, and once again, her perfume prompted his brain to short circuit.

“Let me put it together, you’ve done so much and shown me the process in the meantime.  Go on, open that other bottle of wine so we can enjoy some with dinner.” He absentmindedly nodded to her, and hurried out of the kitchen.  As the cork made its signature _pop_ , Charlotte sauntered in behind him.

As they sat down, she looked around the room before her eyes fell upon him, “I have to ask how you got into cooking. You mentioned how much you love it, and it’s clear how much you do.” She looked down to put her napkin on her lap and he twisted his wine glass in his fingers.

“I don’t know, I just always found it fascinating.You have ingredients, put them together and you can make something extraordinary.I’m not very creative, but this seems to work for me. Whenever I go on holiday, like to Greece or when I was in Rome, I tried to find places where I could learn a little bit about the country’s cuisine.It’s bringing a part of all of that back to me, back home.

“It’s like making a soufflé, like we’ll do later.It’s considered a complicated dish, but in reality, it’s just following the directions exactly to get what you want.” He shrugged at the end, unable to express with the right words and he felt he was probably prattling on too much.He looked upward to serve their food and Charlotte raised her glass to him.

“Well, I for one am entirely impressed and I’ve learned a great deal.Maybe you’re not as bad in the classroom as you thought.” He raised his glass to her in response.

“I can only hope to get better if you’re by my side.” Her eyes widened a little and while he wanted to retreat, he couldn’t.He waited for her reaction, a need to know what she’d do if he treaded into that territory.

What he received was far more than he expected.Her free hand rested on his forearm, and she leaned towards his chest.

“I think the two of us together will surprise everyone.” They stared at each other for a moment before taking a sip of their wine, their eyes remaining on the other’s.Soon, the conversation turned again towards their class and how the first lecture would shape up. 


	15. Chapter 15

As you might have guessed already, 'Memoirs' will no longer be continued. I'm sorry. Thanks for following Ben&Charlotte and for giving us Kudos and comments. Every single one was greatly appreciated!


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